Harry Potter and the Breeding Darkness
by Athey
Summary: Descent Into Darkness Sequel. Harry escapes Privet Dr for the summer after 4th year by staying with Tom. Death Eater meetings, training, and discovering new depths to his relationship with the Dark Lord. Harry grows and changes even more. Discontinued
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary: Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing, explicit content.

Sequel to Descent Into Darkness. Harry escapes Privet Drive and Dumbledore for the summer after his fourth year by staying with Tom. Death Eater meetings, training, and discovering new depths to his relationship with the Dark Lord. Harry grows and changes even more, and upon returning to Hogwarts for his fifth year, he discovers even more surprises as he slowly grows his base, and begins careful manipulations as he works towards taking Hogwarts from within.

Beta pass by tannne

_**Warning: This story is incomplete and abandoned. **_

I am very sorry, but I won't be finishing it. It has been adopted by another author and links to her continuation are in the last chapter.

-####-

Prologue

_At the top of the stairs, Tom paused and turned to look at Harry over his shoulder._

"_Oh, and Harry?"_

"_Hmm?"_

"_Welcome home."_

Harry looked around the stairs and down at the entrance hall for a long beat before a wide smile began to spread across his face and he turned back to Tom.

_Home_...

Yes... _this_ is home.

A powerful warmth spread through Harry's chest. His eyes burned slightly with the most inexplicable urge to tear up. Not out of sadness, but out of pure happiness. He realized, in that moment, that he had _never_ had a real home before. Not really. Even Hogwarts hadn't really been a real home for him. It had been a sham. A trick. It was lies and deceit hidden behind sparkly magic tricks. But now? Now he was being offered a new home. A _real _home. A home with _Tom_. Could he really hope to rely on this? Could he come back next summer, and the next? But did 'coming back here' even matter? Even if Tom eventually left the manor to live in some other location, it wouldn't change things. Harry realized that it wasn't the _manor_ that made it home... it was _Tom_. Where ever Tom went, he would follow, and where ever they were together, was home.

Harry smiled softly, having only just barely stopped the tears from escaping his long black eyelashes, and turned to Tom.

"Thank you."

Tom looked at him curiously for a moment before the corner of his mouth turned up. But it wasn't his normal smirk. It was softer. It was deeper.

"You're welcome, Harry. Now come. Let us go up stairs."

Harry nodded his head and followed Tom, as the pair ascended the stairs.

–

Miles away, in an ancient stone castle, tucked away in an unplottable section of the Scottish highlands, bells, whistles, and little alarms coughing puffs of smoke, began to sound in Headmaster Albus Dumbledore's office.

The wards around Privet Drive had fallen.

– – –

AN: I know it's just a tease, but this is just the start. As I'm posting this, I already have the first 250 pages written. The first 206 pages are 'Part 1' of the story, and that's the first batch I will post. It will be one chapter every other day, until it's all up. Then you'll have another wait until I get 'Part 2' finished and post it.


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary: Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M

Beta Pass by tannne

Chapter 1

Ginny Weasley was sitting up in her bedroom in the Burrow trying to hide from both her mother and her twin demon brothers when she heard the chime ring on the floo downstairs. They had only been home from Hogwarts for two days but the twins were clearly already deeply embedded in something... _sinister._ Or at least, horribly dangerous for anyone who happened to be within range when they needed to test out one of their devious inventions. This was made even more dangerous by the fact that they had reached their seventeenth birthdays that prior April and were now of age to perform magic at home. She had determined that her room was the only place that was even remotely safe from them, as long as she kept her door locked, and stayed inside.

But aside from her two manic twin brothers, her parents had also been acting oddly since arriving home. They seemed... worried. Her mother had been cleaning _everything_, which was usually something she did obsessively to try and distract herself when she was especially stressed. Her father had also taken that day off work, which was especially odd.

Her parent's odd behavior, and the fact that it was rather rare for someone to arrive via the floo so early in the morning, was the only thing that could make her risk leaving the safety of her room, and face the potential threat that was posed by the twins.

She slipped out of her room and down the stairs just in time to hear her parents greeting... _Headmaster Dumbledore_ at the door?

She tried to slip as far down the stairs as she could manage to try and listen in, but their voices were quickly too muffled to make anything out and she scowled. What the heck was Professor _Dumbledore_ doing there?

"And what might you be up to, dear sister of ours?" a voice that sent a chill of exaggerated terror down her spine.

"It looks to me like she's trying to eavesdrop on our parents, Gred."

"Ah, that it does. But she's going about it all the wrong way, dear Forge."

"Be quiet!" Ginny hissed as she looked back over her shoulder at her twin brothers. "I'm _trying_ to listen!"

"How about we offer you a hand there?" 'Gred' said.

"Or better yet, an _ear?" '_Forge' added with a grin.

"What are you two on about?" she said in a harsh whisper.

Fred pulled something fleshy out of his pocket at that point and handed one to George and one to Ginny. She twisted up her face in confusion, and well-earned distrust, as she looked at the object with considerable suspicion.

"Extendable ears," Fred said finally.

"Just put the string in your ear, and direct the other end to whatever it is you want to listen in on, and –" George said.

"–you are as good as eavesdropping." Fred finished.

"Much more effective," George added and then the two twins nodded to each other in agreement.

Ginny looked down at the object again and saw that the fleshy part _did_ look like an ear with a string attached to it. She hesitantly put the string into her ear and was impressed with the magnified sound. She gave them an approving sort of nod and a small smirk. The two twins grinned back.

The trio refocused on the adults downstairs then. The voices were growing quieter and more muffled.

"They're going into the kitchen," whispered Fred. George nodded.

The three red-heads slipped down the stairs and around the corner. They hid at the closed door to the kitchen and all three slipped their extendable ears underneath the door before placing the ends of the strings into their ears.

"He's what?" Molly Weasley gasped in horror.

"I'm afraid that he's missing."

"Oh goodness! This is horrible! And with You-Know-Who having returned! Oh Albus! Do you think they've taken him?"

"I am as yet unsure. I am trying my best to try and locate him, but everything I have tried thus far has been inconclusive or simply failed outright."

"Everything?" asked Arthur Weasley. "I assume you've tried all of the normal tracking and scrying spells?"

"Even several very advanced ones, and _still_, I have had no luck. Wherever Harry is, he is behind some extraordinarily powerful wards, which admittedly, I find most concerning. I must admit that I am at a loss. I was hoping that perhaps I could speak with Ronald and Ginevra in hopes that Harry might have said something to one of them."

"Wait... are you saying that you think Harry might have run off _intentionally?_" Molly gasped.

"I... suspect it may be possible. Just a few weeks ago Miss Granger came to Minerva and me expressing concern for Harry's summer arrangements. It would seem that Harry had spoken to both her and your son Ronald about his desire to stay somewhere else for the summer. I spoke with him and he promised me, at the time, that he would return to the safety of his Aunt and Uncle's home. It would appear now that he may not have taken that promise to heart. I spoke with Harry's aunt and uncle yesterday-evening and they seemed to be under the impression that they had given him permission to stay with a friend over the summer."

"So he's safe?" Molly asked with hope in her voice.

"I cannot say that for sure, Molly. You see, when I checked, both Harry's Aunt and Uncle showed faint traces of some compulsion magic. It would appear that they were magically _compelled_ to give Harry permission to leave their care for the summer."

"_Hey, what's going on?"_ Ron's whispered voice broke in and Ginny almost jumped out of her skin in surprise.

"_Shh!" _Ginny hissed.

George reached into his pocket and pulled out a forth extendable ear and shoved it into Ron's hand before refocusing on the door. Ron looked confused, but was surprisingly able to work out what to do rather quickly.

"So you think that someone might have tricked his relatives? Or tricked Harry? Harry said that he was meeting his Uncle further into the station, and not on the platform because the man didn't like being around so many witches and wizards... oh, I should have insisted he wait for us! I shouldn't have let him go alone!" Molly wailed.

"Oh, Mollywobbles, you can't blame yourself!" Arthur began to say in a soothing voice. "You couldn't have known."

"But Arthur! _You-Know-Who_ is _back_! And now Harry is missing! His muggle family was tricked! It's obvious that he must have been taken!"

"_Ohh... So Dumbledore already realized that Harry flew the coop, eh?" _Ron whispered. _"That was fast."_

Ginny and the twins instantly turned their attention on Ron with wide questioning eyes.

Ron's face scrunched up and then his eyes went wide. _"Wait.. What did they say about You-Know-Who? !"_

"Well let's not jump to conclusions just yet," Arthur was saying. "Let's go get the kids and see if they know anything."

"I think that would be a grand idea," Dumbledore said and the four gathered Weasley children heard scuffing of chairs along the floor. "Oh, I don't think that will be necessary. I believe that all interested parties are outside the door right at this moment. Would you four care to join us?"

The voice was called out a bit louder at the end and suddenly the door flew open by magic and the twins, Ginny, and Ron all collapsed through the doorway and onto the floor, looking up with sheepish expressions.

A few moments later and all of the Weasleys were seated around the table with Albus Dumbledore, Molly Weasley and Arthur Weasley occupying one side, and the four teens occupying the other.

"Now, I'm assuming that the four of you listened in long enough to realize that Harry has turned up missing, am I correct?" Dumbledore began with a grandfatherly smile.

The four Gryffindors nodded their heads.

"Good. Now, I'm curious if Harry spoke to any of you about any plans he may or may not have made pertaining to his summer living arrangements?"

At this, Ginny, Fred, and George all shook their heads, but then their heads turned and looked at Ron who was pointedly looking at the table in front of him.

"Ronald?" Molly asked in a rather scary warning tone.

Ron mumbled something incoherent and shrugged, still keeping his head down.

"Ronald Billius Weasley, you will answer the question, right this moment!" Molly yelled.

Ron grimaced and huffed out a frustrated sigh. "You won't be able to find him. He said the wards that he's behind are the best of the best. Said they're way better than the ones on his muggle relative's house. Said they won't even let _owls_ in. It's crazy."

Molly looked stunned and looked over at Dumbledore.

"Mr. Weasley, could you please tell me anything that Harry might have said to you about where he was intending to go?" Dumbledore said in a kind and encouraging voice.

"He refused to tell me or Hermione any details. He said that you'd come looking for him and if you found him you'd make him go back to those muggles. He said that if we didn't know anything then we couldn't tell you anything. Said it was just safer that way."

Molly gasped. "But _why?_ Why would he run away?"

"Because those muggles abuse him, that's why!" Ron spat angrily as his face and ears went as red as his hair. "And even though _you've_ known about it, you've been making him go back every summer, just so they can hit him and starve him some more!" he continued to yell, accusingly at Dumbledore. "Saying that he's _safe _there and all that rot. Maybe he was safe from D-death Eaters while there, but he wasn't very safe from the muggles, was he? Not safe from them beating on him or starving him to death."

Everyone else around the table was stunned into absolute silence.

With a flash, Ron seemed to realize that he had just yelled at _Albus Dumbledore_, and his face was suddenly overpowered with horror and he ducked his head, pointedly looking into his lap.

"W-what?" Molly asked in a horrified whisper. "What did you say, Ron?"

Ron scowled and squared his shoulders a bit. "Those muggles treat him like garbage. They're awful to him. Did you two ever even think to wonder why he would have _bars_ on his window that summer before second year when the twins and I had to go and rescue him?"

The twins' eyes widened at the memory and shared a look.

"We had to use a muggle lock pick to get his bedroom door open too," Fred added in suddenly. "He was locked in."

"And then we had to pick another lock to get at his trunk. It was locked in a boot cupboard under the stairs along with all his things." George said.

"And what was with that little flap in his bedroom door?" Fred added.

"Harry called that a 'cat flap'. He said it's how his relatives fed him. They'd keep him locked up in his room all day and give him moldy bread through the 'cat flap' and only let him out once a day to use the loo or to do the muggles' housework. They treated him worse than a house elf! And whenever he messed up, they beat him!"

Ginny had gasped in horror several times at this point, and a few horrified tears were threatening to escape her quickly reddening eyes.

Molly looked like she was torn between being shocked and horrified or being absolutely furious. She instantly turned her accusing gaze on Dumbledore.

"Albus, is this true?"

"Oh, not at all, Molly dear. Harry was just exaggerating his woes. His relatives might not be the most loving people but –"

"Exaggerating? Exaggerating? How can you dare accuse him of that?" Ginny exclaimed. "Harry does not _exaggerate _things like that! Have you ever even seen him with them? Seen the way they treat him when _in public?_ I can only imagine how they might treat him when no one is looking! And he's always _so thin_ each fall! And for the first month or so of school he always eats like a bird. I've asked him about it in the past because it always worried me and he told me that if he ate too much he'd get sick. Isn't that a sign of malnourishment? I can't be the only one who noticed!"

Molly's expression shifted _much faster_ to fury this time and her deadly accusing glare shot straight through Albus Dumbledore. It was enough that the man almost faltered in his genial facade.

"Albus we _cannot_ take these accusations lightly! You cannot simply brush these off! If these people are treating Harry poorly than I simply will not stand for letting it continue! Harry will _not_ be going back to those people until I am confident that that is legitimately a safe home for him!"

Dumbledore held up his hands in an attempt to calm everyone down and sooth the strained atmosphere in the room. Once people seemed to have quieted down a bit he refocused on Ron.

"Now, Mr. Weasley, are you _sure_ that there was _nothing_ that Harry told you that might help us in locating him? I will concede that returning him to his muggle relatives may not be the best course of action, but it is still imperative that we find him and make sure he is brought to somewhere that is _safe_. There are deadly threats out there right now. I believe that Harry's life may be in great danger right now and it is absolutely important that we know where he is so we can make sure he is kept safe."

Ron folded his arms across his chest and took on a stubborn expression. "I don't know anything. And if _you_ can't find him, I don't suppose any Death Eaters will be able to either."

– –

One Day Earlier – July 3rd, 1st day of Summer Holidays

Tom turned the corner towards his study as Harry made his way up the stairs.

"Why don't you go on up to the room and begin to unpack your things. I will be up with you in just a moment, I need to put away some things I was in the middle of when you arrived," Tom said easily as he strode away.

"Sure," Harry said as he kept going and made his way up the stairs towards the third floor. Harry turned the corner and went to the room across the hall from Tom's bedroom that he had stayed in the night after he discovered the truth prophecies. He opened the door and stepped inside to find the room nearly bare, and clearly lacking his trunk. Harry looked around bewildered for a moment.

"Hm... Mixey!" Harry called out. A moment later the elf popped in and appeared beside him.

"Yes, Master Harry?"

"Wh... oh, you should probably call me Evan or Harris during the summer, alright?"

"Oh, yes! I's shall be doings that! Master saids so as well. Mixey is most sorry, Master Evan. Mixey will –" Mixey squeaked worriedly and began to wring her ears with her hands.

"That's alright, Mixey. No harm. Don't worry about it at all. Now, where did you leave my trunk and Hedwig's cage that I gave you earlier?"

"I be leavings them in Master's room, of course," Mixey said with an eager bob of her head.

Harry looked around the room one more time just to make sure he hadn't somehow missed it, but it was obvious that his things weren't here.

"Er... can you take me to them?" Harry asked finally.

"Oh yes, Master Evan. Of course," Mixey said as she began to scurry out the door behind him. Harry shook his head and turned to follow her. He came to an abrupt halt as he saw the little elf going into Tom's room.

"Er... Mixey? I think you've made a mistake," Harry said slowly as he took a few more steps inside the room and saw his unshrunk trunk sitting in the center of the open floor space to the east of the large king-size bed."

"Oh noes, Master Evan. Mixey is most sure she has it right. Master's instructions were most specific," she said, shaking her head determinedly, causing her enormous bat ears to flop around comically.

"No, Mixey, I'm pretty sure –"

"Don't be thick, Harry," Tom's voice came from behind him and he spun around to see the older wizard coming in through the open doorway and closing the door behind him.

"Huh?" Harry began, but Tom cut him off.

"Unless of course, _you_ have a problem with this arrangement?" Tom asked with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

Realization dawned on Harry and his eyes widened and he looked around the room, and then at the trunk, and then back at Tom.

"You want me to stay in _here?_ With you?"

Tom rolled his eyes. "Yes, Harry. Is that a problem?"

Harry's mouth quickly spread into an enthusiastic smile and he quickly shook his head. "No. No problem." He ducked his head, slightly embarrassed with how insanely stupid he was sure his grin probably looked.

"Good," Tom said with an accomplished smirk. "You may go, Mixey. I will call if I need anything," he said and Mixey promptly popped away. Next Tom turned back to examine Harry's trunk and the owl cage sitting atop it. "I can key your owl into the wards so that she won't feel the compulsion to leave the grounds, but I ask that you not use her for mail," Tom said, his voice instantly shifting to business.

"Right. If I have any letters to go out, I give them to Mixey and she'll take them to the post office and have them sent out," Harry said nodding his head.

"Since I don't have any owls on the property I haven't seen any point in setting up some sort of owlery, but there are stables on the grounds. Mixey, Kibby, and Grader have been working on putting the grounds to rights for the last week, but I am unsure if they have addressed the old stables yet. Your owl can stay in the manor until something more suitable for her can be arranged, but I ask that she not be in _this room._"

"Right. That's fine," Harry said quickly.

Tom nodded his head and then turned to look at the owl. He cocked his head slightly to one side and Harry could see the corner of his mouth turn up the slightest bit.

"She is quite a beautiful thing, isn't she? What was it... Hedwig, I believe?"

Harry grinned, happy that Tom had actually remembered. "That's right."

"Obviously we must make sure to inform Nagini that she is not to be _eaten._"

Harry snorted. "Er... yeah, that would be a good idea."

"Now for the room," Tom said turning and facing the east wall of the room that Harry now realized was decorated differently than it had been when he was last in this room. There was a large standing wardrobe stained in a very dark wood, and beside it was a dresser in a similar style and color. A few feet further down the wall was a wide wooden desk, again of the same style and color, with a wood and leather-cushioned chair in front of it. Past the desk and all the way down the wall until it reached the corner were seven-foot tall bookshelves.

"This is for you. Obviously you are free to change it around however you like and add more to it, this is merely my initial contribution. The wardrobe is larger than it appears," Tom said as he walked over to it and pulled open the two doors exposing what actually looked like a walk-in closet, rather than a wardrobe. "We will be filling out your wardrobe, obviously. While here, you should remain in wizard robes. Muggle clothing would obviously be too out of place."

Harry nodded his head dumbly as he took it all in.

"As you can see I have already had Mixey pick up a few items for you to tide you over until you and I can actually go shopping on our own."

"Go shopping?" Harry asked.

"Yes, I was thinking next week sometime. We'll see what my schedule is like. I've got a fairly heavy schedule for the next week thanks to all the debriefings of my followers and handing out new assignments."

"You and I are going to go out shopping?" Harry asked again, still rather incredulous at the mere idea.

Tom snorted. "_Yes_, Harry. We're going to go out. Did you expect to sequester yourself inside this house for the entire summer? I certainly don't intend to. I would go mad if I were cooped up in here all day, every day, for months on end. I did not become a Dark Lord just to end up a prisoner inside my own home."

"How often do you go out?" Harry asked, legitimately curious.

"Not often, admittedly. Or at least, not as much as I would like, but I haven't had much need to go out as yet. Mostly late at night, and of course, under glamors."

"Obviously."

"I was thinking that you and I could go out in the next few days to get anything you might need."

"Will that be a problem though? I mean, Dumbledore is going to be looking for me, and undoubtedly, he'll be using tracking spells. I know he can't find me when I'm in the manor, behind the wards, but won't he be able to if we leave?"

"I have a simple way of dealing with that already prepared, so you do not have to worry about it. Anyway, I, unfortunately, have matters I need to attend to before dinner. Will you be alright unpacking on your own?"

"Oh, sure."

"Good. I will probably be by to gather you myself for dinner. If I finish up sooner, I'll come by then."

"Alright," Harry said quietly, still smiling widely.

Tom took a few steps towards him, dipped his head down a few inches and pressed his lips to Harry's. Harry's arms instantly came up and wrapped around Tom's neck, holding him tight and deepening the kiss. Harry could feel the magic in the air swirling around them madly. It was so electrifying, and enticing. The glorious magical pull, combined with the delicious butterflies dancing in his gut only served to make him feel utterly intoxicated.

The two finally pulled apart for air, but they didn't part far. Harry could feel Tom's warm breath fanning across his cheek and lips and he could smell the older wizard's delicious, unique, scent. It made him want to just devourer the older wizard... or let the older wizard devourer _him._ At the very least, he didn't want to let go. He was so utterly touched by all of Tom's remarkably caring gestures. He was always stunned when Tom showed his softer side, and Harry realized it was truly a remarkable thing that Tom felt comfortable enough to do it with him.

"Thank you _so much_ for this Tom. You... you don't know how much this means to me," Harry whispered finally, once he had managed to find his voice.

"Oh, I think I might," Tom said with a smirk. He pressed his lips to Harry's again for one quick peck before pulling away. "As you unpack, make a list of anything you may be missing or need and we can make sure to get it when we go out.

"Alright, Tom," Harry said, still smiling far too widely. His cheeks were starting to hurt from all this grinning.

Tom left the room and Harry turned to examine his side of the room for a moment before making his way over to his trunk and opening it up.

– –

Harry spent the late afternoon unpacking his trunk. The clothing he had purchased earlier in the year in Hogsmeade really only consisted of shirts and trousers to wear under his school robes. There were only a handful of robes already inside the wardrobe, but Harry had to admit that they were quite nice.

He added his shirts and the dress robes he wore to the Yule Ball to it, before unpacking all of his trousers, socks, and other assorted things into the dresser. Unpacking his books took decidedly longer. He found that he really _loved_ the idea that he could proudly display every one of his favorite books in his new bookshelves, without having to feel the need to hide the so-called 'questionable' ones.

He laid out all of his assorted items on some of the shelves, and on his desk, including his broom, now propped up on the inside of his wardrobe, and various gifts he'd gotten over the years, as well as a few things that he had nicked from the chamber, and a few other things he'd found in the Room of Requirement's 'room of hidden things'.

He didn't bother to unpack his potions supplies since he knew that Tom had a far better equipped potions lab down in the basement. He did unpack all of the items for his summer homework assignments and set them on the corner of his desk to be dealt with later.

When he was all done, he stood back and looked at his new space and smiled. He couldn't help but think that this was the first time that he had had a space of his own that really felt like _him_ completely.

Hedwig's cage was sitting on the floor beside his desk until he could figure out where to put it. He had let her out from the window at the end of the hallway, so she could go hunt. He made a mental note to explore the grounds and check out that stable Tom had mentioned to see if it would serve as a sufficient alternative to an owlery.

Just shortly before six, Tom came in to collect Harry. He only paused to examine Harry's additions to the room for a moment, giving Harry a very small approving nod before leading the two of them down to the dining room on the first floor.

Dinner was a simple affair, while also being delicious. Mixey was still the primary cook, but apparently Grader was also quite good in the kitchen. Harry realized he hadn't even met Grader yet, and he's only met Kibby twice. He'd have to make sure that they both knew to call him Evan as well.

After dinner he and Tom relaxed in the study, and the comfortable familiarity was easy to slip into. It was almost weird to realize he didn't have to leave and go back to Hogwarts later.

Tom cleared his throat after a fairly long stretch of silence where the two had simply been sitting and reading in the comfortable quiet of the room. Harry looked up, giving the Dark Lord his full attention as Tom set his book down on the desk and popped his neck.

"When do you wish to begin the Arithmancy and Runes lessons?"

Harry blinked in surprise. "Oh... well, whenever you have the time, is fine with me." Harry realized that he had almost forgotten all about them.

Tom made a humming noise and nodded his head. "I cannot devote a lot of time to it, so it will be a lot of self-study, but I was thinking that every Tuesday and Thursday we could spend an hour or two discussing the subjects. I have a few books I've selected on each subject. I also had Mixey pick up the first term text books for each class, so you can be familiar with those as well. The books I personally selected, however, I feel are a bit superior and I will mostly be instructing you from them."

"That sounds fantastic."

"I will have meetings with various people at least once or twice a day for most of the summer, so you can do some of your reading during those times, however, there will be quite a few meetings I would like you to attend," Tom continued easily.

"Really?" Harry asked, both surprised and excited.

"Of course, pet. I deemed you my apprentice, and I intend you to be so. The dark arts and dueling training can prepare you for some of what you need to know, but there are other things to learn about the Death Eaters that can only be learned through experience and exposure. I will also appreciate your assistance in keeping track of tasks, and making transcripts of certain meetings."

"That sounds fantastic. Thank you."

"Thank me after you've sat through a few meetings. You will learn quickly that they can be quite tedious more often than not," Tom said with a smirk.

Harry chuckled and shrugged. "Hey, I've sat through Professor Binn's History of Magic class twice a week for the last ten months, I can't fathom any Death Eater meetings being more mind numbing than that."

Tom nodded his head slowly. "Granted... yes, I'll give you that."

Harry grinned and the corners of Tom's mouth turned up in amusement as well.

_This is nice..._

Conversation lulled a bit and Harry found himself resting quietly against Tom's chair while the older wizard finished up a few papers.

Harry couldn't help but begin to feel the slightest mix of apprehension and anticipation as the evening drew to an end.

He heard Tom sigh quietly and set his quill down on the desk. "I am going to retire to the bedroom, pet. Care to join me?"

Harry's eyes lit up and he nodded his head enthusiastically, earning him an amused chuckle from the older wizard. The two stood up and Harry followed Tom as he left the study and made his way up to his... up to _their_ bedroom.

That was a strange thought for Harry. It was one that he knew was going to take some getting used to.

The pair climbed the stairs and entered the grand master bedroom. It was a very large room with a huge king-sized bed in the center of the room. The bed was not a four-poster like the beds at school. Instead it featured an ornately carved mahogany headboard and a matching foot-board. The bedspread and pillows were made of fine silk and were a deep, shimmering, emerald color. Harry recalled from the one time that he had slept on that bed before, that it had been incredibly comfortable.

The bed was against the wall directly opposite the door to the room and there were small mahogany nightstands flanking each side of the bed. The wall to the left, upon entering the room, featured what Harry assumed was Tom's dresser, a door the led to a walk-in closet, and another door that led to an attached bathroom that Harry had not yet actually set foot in. The wall to the right of the bed was the one that had been deemed Harry's and featured his wardrobe, dresser, bookshelves, and desk. Tom's side of the room was decidedly sparse in comparison to the additions that Harry had made just that afternoon. But Harry didn't think much of it since Tom had the entire manor to store his things, while Harry was spreading all of his possessions in this one area.

Tom strode easily into the room and walked over towards his closet. Harry paused for a moment at the door feeling awkward and a bit unsure for a moment before he squared his shoulders, sucked in a breath to center himself and walked over towards his wardrobe and pulled out a pair of comfortable pajama pants.

"Oh yes, I have a hamper in here that the elves attend to each day," Tom called out from inside his closet. "You can leave your dirty clothing in here, and they'll deal with it."

"Oh, alright," Harry said as he began to remove his outer robes and fold them into a rumpled pile on his desk chair. He began to unbutton his undershirt and realized that his fingers were a bit shaky. He wasn't even sure why he was so nervous. Part of him wondered if something might happen that night, and felt entirely excited and hopeful that it would. But another part of him wondered if it would be a bad sign if something _didn't happen_. He knew the age gap still bothered Tom, no matter how much Harry wished it wouldn't. He would be fifteen in less than a month's time, but even Harry had to acknowledge that most people would still consider that 'too young'.

At the same time, the fact that Tom had invited him to share his bed indicated that perhaps Tom was trying to move beyond the age thing... or at least, he was just pointedly ignoring it.

Harry heard the shuffling of fabric from inside the closet and sped up in his removal of his own clothes. His white, button-down undershirt was quickly added to the rumpled pile on the chair and he pushed down his trousers and stepped out of them. Just as he was pulling the cotton sleep pants on he heard Tom exiting his closet. Harry turned slightly to the side and looked over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of the undeniably glorious form of a nearly-nude Tom Riddle stepping back into the room and running his hand through his soft black hair.

He was wearing nothing more than a pair of snug, dark-gray, muggle boxer-briefs. Harry felt his knees go weak at the sight, and butterflies erupted in his gut.

The man was just so fucking beautiful. Harry blushed and turned away quickly. He bent down and picked up his trousers before adding the shirt and robes to the bundle in his arms and beginning to make his way across the room so he could dispose of them in the hamper.

Tom stood beside the foot-board and grinned as he watched Harry walking across the room with an obvious air of amusement. The hamper was just inside the door and Harry quickly deposited his bundle inside it and turned back out. He came to an awkward stop and felt his cheeks heat up as Tom's eyes trailed over his exposed torso appreciatively. Harry felt himself grinning, despite the mild embarrassment. He was _so glad_ that he'd endured the excellerant potions, if for no other reason, than the fact that Tom was able to find him physically attractive. It made it all worth it.

Tom stood up straighter form his spot beside the bed and took a few purposeful strides towards Harry, and then stepping behind him, making Harry turn his head and blink at Tom with mild confusion. A moment later, Tom's hands came up and came to rest on Harry's shoulder. The contact caused an instant reaction in Harry and he expelled a long, satisfied breath as the other man's magic and the warmth of his hands seeped into Harry's flesh, and calmed him, completely.

"You are far too tense, love," Tom's voice came from behind Harry's right ear, sending shivers down his spine, and causing goose-flesh to spread across his arms. Harry's eyes, that had lulled shut by the sudden influx of warmth and calm that Tom's touch had brought, _shot open_ at the completion of Tom's words.

_Love_... Harry was used to being called 'Pet'. He had found he was even growing quite fond of the pet name. But Tom had never called him 'love' before. The word had just flowed off his tongue so easily as if he had called Harry that a hundred times, and not that this had been the first. Harry pointedly tried not to outwardly acknowledge it, in case it was an accident, and his pointing it out would prevent it from ever happening again. Just the same, Harry's shocked reaction had probably not gone unnoticed.

Tom's hands began to rub gently into Harry's back and shoulder muscles, causing Harry to release a shuddering breath and instantly re-melt into the older wizard's ministrations.

"Harry," Tom's voice came out in a quiet hush with a warm breath against Harry's neck, "I want you to know that I am not expecting anything from you tonight. I have invited you to share my bed because I _want you there_; not because I am expecting anything from you. I do not want you to do anything that we are both not completely comfortable with. We are both in... uncharted territory here. However I am clearly the more experienced of the two of us. I am responsible for you. _You are mine, _and you are precious to me. I do not wish to push you. I... want you happy and comfortable here. This is your home now."

Harry pulled away and turned around, looking up into Tom's eyes and wrapping his arms around the older wizard's neck.

"Thank you... so much," Harry whispered up at the other man before pulling himself up and pressing their lips together in an almost desperate, chaste kiss.

He felt the pull of their magic again, and it was quickly growing so intense that he felt light-headed again. It had been reacting so strongly lately. Harry wasn't entirely sure what to make of it, but every time they came together in any way like this, the magic that pulled them together seemed to spike dramatically. He pushed it aside and focused instead on the feeling of _Tom_ as the older wizard wrapped one of his long, strong arms around Harry's back, and his other hand came up and buried itself into Harry's raven-black hair.

Their bodies pressed against each other and Harry felt his whole body slowly growing more and more hot. It was part of the magic, he thought... like his whole body was on fire. His own magic reacting, dancing, and mingling with Tom's delicious dark power. But it was also physical. So _incredibly physical_.

The kiss deepened and lips parted as tongues began to dance. Tom's hand pressed at the small of Harry's back, pushing them closer together while Harry tugged tighter at Tom's neck, pulling them closer.

_Closer... closer._ _Not close enough._ Harry felt consumed with the need to be near Tom. But 'near' wasn't enough. It was like he needed to be _one_ with him. Like there was some powerful magnetic force trying to pull the two together until they were no longer two, but merely one. And he wanted it. He wanted it so bad...

Tom pulled back suddenly from their kiss, gasping slightly for breath and with wide, somewhat startled, eyes as if he had suddenly been shocked. He closed his eyes a moment later as if trying to recenter himself and rested his forehead against Harry's, while panting heavily. Harry felt the gentle hum of their mingling magic at the point of physical contact and whimpered as he leaned into the touch and gently tugged on Tom's neck to try and reestablish their previous contact.

But Tom wouldn't budge. He stood there for a long minute and slowly began to gently rub his fingers into Harry's scalp while his other hand rest gently at Harry's back and slowly trailed his fingers up and down Harry's warm, exposed skin. Finally he heaved a long slow sigh and pulled away.

"Come pet, let's go to bed," he said in a quiet, velvety voice. Harry felt a bit disappointed that whatever they had started seemed to be done now, but squashed the feeling as he nodded his head in agreement and took a reluctant step back.

Tom made his way to one side of the bed and pulled the covers back. Following his lead, Harry made his way to the opposite side and did the same. They both climbed under and Harry was pleased when Tom came to rest closer to the center of the bed than the side. Harry slid over as well and quickly found Tom's arm stretching out underneath his neck and pulling the younger wizard to him. Without even thinking, Harry's head ended up rested upon Tom's chest, and his arm just naturally wrapped over the older wizard's stomach, holding him close.

The feel of Tom's chest as it rose and fell with his breaths, and the silky smooth texture of his skin as it was pressed directly against Harry's own was utterly bewitching. Every one of Harry's senses was overwhelmed with the feeling of the connection to Tom. His mind was almost unable to function through the vastly overpowering feelings and emotions swirling through and around him in that moment. It was just so much, and yet it was also so completely simple.

He lay there, on his side with half of his body propped up and being held in position as he used the Dark Lord as a body pillow. It was utterly surreal, and yet it was also completely _right_. How had this happened? How had everything changed _so much_ that _this_ was where he had ended up? That _this_ had become _so right, _and anything else was just _wrong._

He really didn't even know, but it didn't matter anyway. Nothing mattered but this.

Harry fell asleep to the rhythmic lullaby of Tom's heartbeat and steady breathing, and the gentle feeling of Tom's fingers as they occasionally threaded through his hair. His sleep was deep and completely uninterrupted. He couldn't even remember the last time he had woken feeling so well rested, and charged with energy.

Harry actually woke first, which surprised him. He and Tom hadn't changed their positions much during the night. Tom was lying on his back with his right arm sprawled lazily on the bed at his side. His left arm was still under Harry and wrapped loosely around him, resting on Harry's back. Harry was mostly on his stomach, but propped slightly on his side as he rested on Tom. He worried that he might be cutting off the circulation to Tom's arm and hoped the man wouldn't wake up sore. Harry's left arm was resting across Tom's stomach and chest with his hand curled into a relaxed fist directly over-top of Tom's peck. He let his hand open slowly and his fingertips brushed through the very light dusting of hair that Tom sported in the center of his chest.

Harry absently brushed his fingers, somehow entranced with the soft feel of them. His eyes traveled over Tom's face and observed how strangely peaceful the other man looked in his sleep. The hard look that he held most of the time was gone. His features were soft, relaxed, and calm. He looked so completely beautiful to Harry. Without even realize it, Harry's hand came up from his playful exploration of Tom's chest hair and he brushed his fingertips over Tom's cheek, tracing his face down until his index finger came to rest upon Tom's lips.

Just as the urge had suddenly consumed him, Harry was moving upwards and pressing his lips against the sleeping Tom's.

The older man hummed with groggy approval and his loose arm came up so that both his arms now wrapped around Harry's waist and held him close. After a long lingering kiss the two pulled apart and Harry found Tom smirking up at him.

"I must admit, that was definitely a better way to wake up than I'm accustomed to," Tom said with a chuckle. Harry ducked his head and grinned as he began to nuzzle is face into Tom's neck and chest. "Mmm... I could grow accustomed to this."

Harry grinned. "Yeah... definitely could get used to this."

The two remained in bed for a short while longer, but eventually Tom insisted that the two of them needed to get up. They each got into their exercise clothing and made their way downstairs into the gym.

An hour and a half later they returned to their room. Tom showered first while Harry waited in the room as he dug into his trunk to pull out his toiletry supplies. There had been a brief moment there where he had almost thought Tom was going to invite him to join him in the shower, but he hadn't. Harry had almost been glad he hadn't. He wasn't sure if he could really handle it so soon.

Tom came out with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist and Harry had to fight the urge to jump the man. Seeing his slightly flushed skin from the hot water, glistening lightly from the shower water, and his black hair dripping, sent shots of desire through him. His reaction had to have been obvious in some way because Tom had grinned in amusement, clearly pleased, but had remarked that he had a meeting scheduled to take place in less than thirty minutes and couldn't afford to get distracted.

He went into his closet and Harry could hear the sounds of rustling clothing. While inside he had continued to speak, informing Harry that while he showered, Tom would set out the Arithmancy and Runes books he'd selected on Harry's desk along with some instructions on what to read through in preparation for their first lesson.

Finally he had come out dressed in fine, regal robes, and gave Harry a chaste kiss on the lips before he transformed into his Voldemort persona and left the room. Harry had sighed as the man disappeared into the hall and closed the door, and finally Harry made his way into the bathroom.

– –


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary: Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta Pass by tannne

AN: I would like to start by stating that I'm astounded by the response the first chapter and prologue got. 96 Reviews for one chapter (Prologue wasn't even 1 page long, so I don't count it – lol)

So anyways, thank you all, you're all amazing and spiffy. :)

Warning: This chapter has sex.

The lemon will be marked if you're squeamish, you can skip it.

Chapter 2

The day passed slowly. Voldemort spent a long morning debriefing one of his Death Eaters who had spent the last decade working his way up in the Department of International Magical Affairs. The man apparently worked closely with the magical ministers of several countries, as well as with the British Minister of Magic himself. He didn't exactly have any real influence, but he had a lot of knowledge, so he'd had a lot to cover.

Harry had spent that time going through the first couple chapters of the Arithmancy book, and chatting with Nagini while she stretched out lazily along his shoulders and lap. Voldemort adjourned his meeting with the Death Eater for lunch, sending the man away to come back and resume the debriefing at a later time. He had returned to his normal, human, visage, and then he and Harry enjoyed a comfortable lunch while Harry mentioned a few things he'd read in the book, and then Tom talked briefly about his meeting and a few noteworthy things he'd learned about the Minister.

After lunch, they went to their normal training room and proceeded in their usual early-afternoon dark arts and dueling lesson. Harry couldn't help but feel even more strongly affected by the Dark Lord's magic than usual, and by the end of a short mock battle, he was panting heavily, but not from magical exertion or physical toil. He felt his whole body hot and the coil was wound tight in the pit of his stomach. Tom's every move had been enticing and enthralling. His magic had sung to Harry and it set his every sense alight. He felt intoxicated by the man's dark magic in a way that he hadn't for months. It was quite strange, honestly. He knew he shouldn't be affected by the Dark anymore. He was exposed it to it daily and under controlled circumstances. He wasn't addicted anymore. Not severely, anyway, and yet he felt himself getting high from Tom's presence the way the Dark Lord's magic did in the beginning.

He couldn't fathom what it meant, but he realized he needed to get a hold of himself and quick. Harry had closed his eyes and lowered his head as he tried to clear his mind by employing Occlumency. He still wasn't all that good at it, but he was slowly improving.

Even though his eyes were closed, he could _sense_ that Tom was approaching him. He instinctively leaned his body towards the other man, and sighed with powerful, intense relief, as Tom's hand came up and gently stroked Harry's cheek with his knuckles before it moved up and laced his fingers into Harry's hair.

"Are you going to grow it out, or do you think you'll get it trimmed soon?" Tom asked, surprising Harry with the question that seemed to just come out of nowhere.

Harry opened his eyes and looked at the other wizard with mild confusion for a moment before he truly processed the question.

"Oh... well, I was sort of thinking I'd let it grow out. When it's short it just goes every-which-way, and sticks strait up half the time. It's just this un-tamable mess. Now that it's got some more length to it, it's a bit easier to get under control."

"Hm, good... I think I'd like it long," Tom mused quietly as he ran his fingers through it again. Harry smiled and his eyes closed instinctively as he leaned his head into the gentle gesture again.

"I really love it when you do this," Harry admitted easily as Tom continued to comb his fingers through Harry's black hair.

Tom quirked a smug grin. "I think I had determined that for myself. You're quite obvious in your appreciation of it."

Harry just grinned sheepishly for a moment. "Do you have any more meetings today?" he asked finally.

Tom sighed lightly and reluctantly pulled his hand back. "I do, actually. This one, hopefully, won't take quite as long. I should be done before dinner."

Harry gave the other man a soft, sad smile. "Alright. I'll probably crack open the Ancient Runes book and start on the first chapter of it, maybe explore the manor a little."

Tom nodded his head in approval. "Sounds good. Just use your head and don't touch anything that's cursed. We should finish up here, I haven't much time left before my follower is scheduled to arrive."

The rest of the day passed much the same as the previous. Once Tom was finished with his meeting, he and Harry ate dinner and then retired to the study to read and relax in each other's familiar company. Going to bed was almost a complete repeat of the previous night. There was a brief moment when the two had begun to get lost in each other's romantic embrace that Harry thought that they would end up snogging on the bed, but once again, Tom had pulled back, sporting a slightly startled expression. Harry wasn't even sure what that was about, and found himself a bit disappointed that the other man had stopped whatever it was that might have happened, had they continued.

The next day repeated the routine of the previous. Tom, once again, had a morning and afternoon debrief scheduled. It seemed that Voldemort intended to meet with each and every one of his death eaters individually to try and garner every last bit of useful information from them about what they knew of the last ten years that might help him in his planning.

The fourth day of Harry's summer holidays was the first to deviate a bit from the previous three. That morning Tom had waited in the room while Harry showered and went through his morning bathroom routine. When Harry came out of the room, he had been surprised to find the man still there, and looking rather thoughtful.

"You mentioned that you mastered a serpentine transformation for the second task," Tom started out of nowhere, catching Harry by surprise by the sudden topic.

"Er, that's right."

"I believe you told me it was a Sea Krait. That is a breed that can comfortably exist in both water and on land, correct?"

"Right."

Tom nodded, looking thoughtful. "I have a plan, but it will require you spending an hour or two in that form. Would that be a problem?"

Harry blinked at him in surprise for a moment. "Um... I think that would be fine. I've never really tried hanging out in that form for that long, but I'm sure it wouldn't be a problem. Why, though?"

"Severus is coming this afternoon for a debriefing on his end-of-year encounters with Dumbledore, and any new information he might have about the reformation of the Order of the Phoenix. I imagine that much of what he has to tell me will be pertinent to _you_. I could simply relay the information to you afterwards, but it would be simpler if you were there to hear it for yourself. I would also like for you to start witnessing how I handle them in one-on-one meetings more often. However, _obviously_, I'm not willing to let Severus know that you are living here during the summer. I also doubt he would be entirely forthcoming with information if a third-party was present during the meeting... especially if that third party is _you_."

A grin spread across Harry's face as realization dawned. "But he wouldn't hold back if it was just you, him, and your pet snake."

Tom smirked and nodded his head. "Precisely."

They discussed the meeting for a moment longer before Tom transformed into Voldemort and left the room so he could finish up a few things in his study before his morning appointment arrived. Harry got dressed, put on his glamor ring, and then migrated to the library to relax and read. The meeting with Snape wouldn't be until that afternoon at 2pm.

– –

The room where Voldemort had been debriefing the Death Eaters in was one of the many rooms on the first floor that he had never had any need to enter before. It was on the first floor, just a short distance down the hall from the ballroom. Harry would guess that it had probably been a den or a family room of some sort once upon a time. It had dark wood wainscot panels along the lower half of the walls, and a faded yellowing wallpaper above. It also featured a very large fireplace made mostly of stone, but with a dark wood mantle. Whatever furniture might have originally been in the room had been cleared out and replaced with a large conference table surrounded by chairs.

After a shortened training session that had followed lunch, Harry had visited the room and transformed into his black and white striped serpentine form. He slithered around the room a few times to get a feel for the form again, and get accustomed to the room. While doing this he had spotted one of those metal vents that Nagini used to travel around the manor and his curiosity was peaked.

Tom had told him that Severus wasn't scheduled to arrive for another twenty minutes and that he was going to finish up a few things until then, so Harry had some time to kill. He slithered over to the vent and nudged it open with his nose before working his body inside. In his sea-snake form Harry was about the same size as Nagini, so he figured if she could fit inside it, surely he could as well. He spent fifteen minutes working his way through the manor's ventilation system to travel to various rooms all on the first floor. He found that in order to turn around to go back he had to exit into a room because he was just too big, and the vents too small, for him to turn around inside.

Finally he felt the manor's wards alerting him of someone's arrival and he quickly began to backtrack towards the conference room. He could feel Tom's magic as he traveled from the second floor down towards the entry hall where he no doubt acquired Snape and led him to the conference room.

The two had just settled into their seats when Harry pushed the hinged vent open with his nose and began to slither his way into the room. The vent in question was almost directly behind where Voldemort was sitting, and Severus could see him from where he sat opposite the Dark Lord. His eyes widened minutely as he observed the large stripped serpent beginning to enter the room but quickly controlled his expression and refocused on Voldemort.

Harry slithered his way up the chair that was directly to Voldemort's right and then onto the table. Despite all of his efforts to remain focused on the Dark Lord while he spoke, Severus' eyes still strayed to observe the large venomous snake as it sprawled itself across the table in front of Voldemort, whose hands came up lazily and began to scratch one finger along the snake's neck, directly behind its head.

Harry hissed in pleasure as the surprisingly wonderful feeling and had to force himself to focus on the meeting instead.

"What news do you have for me, Severuss?"

"Harry Potter is missing," Severus started right away. It was obvious by the long pause after this statement that he had expected some sort of reaction from the Dark Lord at this statement, but whatever he was expecting, he did not get it, so he continued. "The Headmaster is in a panic. Nothing he does will lead him to the boy."

"He discovered Potter's absence rather quickly, it has only been a few days since the students returned to their homes, how did he become aware of it so soon?" Voldemort asked.

Severus' brow rose slightly as the realization that not only was the Dark Lord aware that Potter was missing, he had clearly expected it.

"Apparently the afternoon that the train arrived in London, the wards around Potter's house fell. The Headmaster has monitors in his office that relay the details of the wards to him, and the alarms sounded the instant they fell. He visited the boy's relatives right away to investigate and discovered that some sort of compulsion charm had been used on them. They apparently told Dumbledore that they had given Potter permission to visit a friend for the summer."

"Did Dumbledore tell you any of his theories on this? Did he believe that Potter had really run off, or..?

"At first he was convinced that the boy had been kidnapped. He visited the Weasley's to speak with Potter's _friends_. The Weasley twins, and the girl seemed ignorant of the entire thing, however the youngest Weasel, a boy by the name of Ronald, revealed that Potter had apparently been making plans for months to stay somewhere other than his relatives this summer and had kept the plans secret from all but Weasley and Potter's mudblood friend, Granger. Apparently he gave them some sob story about being mistreated by his relatives. They no doubt refused to tend to his every whim, or denied him sweets or something," Severus sneered.

The sneer froze and shifted into a startled grimace as he suddenly found himself on the receiving end of a _very_ angry glare from the Dark Lord.

Snape cleared his throat and shifted slightly in his seat before continuing. "Weasley was apparently ignorant of any details outside of the fact that Potter expected that, wherever he was going to be staying, would be even safer than his muggle relatives home. Once Dumbledore was convinced that the boy really didn't know anything of value, he left. Yesterday he apparently tried to track down Miss Granger in hopes that she might know more, however she is apparently out of the country."

Voldemort nodded his head thoughtfully. "Has Dumbledore shared any of his theories about Potter's actions and motives? Is he suspicious?"

"In the beginning, I believe he was mostly convinced that Potter had been kidnapped, however after speaking with Weasley I think he now believes that the boy has simply run away from home. The troubling part is that wherever Potter is hiding out is behind extremely powerful wards. Powerful enough that none of Dumbledore's tracking spells can find him. I believe that _this_ detail is what concerns the Headmaster the most. If he is suspect of Potter's shift in loyalties, he has not expressed so to me. He, however, seems nearly obsessed with tracking the boy down."

Voldemort nodded in acknowledgment and began to lazily stroke his fingers down the snake's neck again, earning a pleased hissing sound from the snake and a hissy chuckle from Voldemort. He refocused on Severus.

"What news do you have of the Order?"

"He has managed to contact most of the old members, but is still searching for a location to hold meetings. He gathered a large group of them together yesterday evening at Hogwarts, but obviously that location will not work for long."

Severus continued on to describe the meeting; who was there, and what was discussed. Professor McGonagall was a member, which Harry had to admit, wasn't all that surprising, since the organization was founded and run by Dumbledore. Also in attendance at the meeting were a couple newer recruits that included a man named Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was an Auror, and another Auror named Tonks. Old members who had returned included someone named Emmeline Vance, Elphais Doge, Dedalus Diggle, Hestia Jones, Sturgis Podmore, Mundungus Fletcher, both Molly and Arthur Weasley, Remus Lupin, and... _Arabella Figg_? Dumbledore had been disappointed that Alastor Moody hadn't shown up and had sent an owl to inquire as to his absence.

Those gathered were stunned and horrified, and in quiet disbelief when Dumbledore informed them all that Voldemort had regained a body and was secretly regathering his Death Eaters. Then Snape had been expected to relay a brief summary of the Death Eater meeting he had attended and who had been there. Of course, he had repeated the same story he had given Dumbledore directly after the meeting, which included insisting that only six Death Eaters had returned to the Dark Lord's side. Which the Order found reassuring.

The Order members had also been informed of Harry having turned up missing, and they had been appropriately panicked by the news. A few members that were rather accomplished in tracking people down were tasked with helping Dumbledore in trying to locate Harry.

Harry found it interesting to learn that Lupin had been in attendance, but that Sirius had been absent. Dumbledore had explained to those who had shown up – since many of them still did not know – that Sirius Black had not been the Potter's Secret Keeper, and that he had been innocent and never received a trial. He said that he had invited Sirius back into the Order, but that the man was currently on the run, and trying to track down Peter Pettigrew to prove his innocence, and thus, had not been able to attend.

Harry wondered how long Sirius could use that excuse to avoid the old goat.

Harry also couldn't help but find himself... Stunned? Confused? _Angry_? – to learn that _Arabella Figg_ was in the Order! Arabella Figg, as in, Mrs. Figg his occasional babysitter and neighbor from Little Whinging? Surely not! But it was true. It was the _same woman._

Dumbledore had questioned her, and Harry learned from Severus' debrief, that the woman was actually a _bloody squib, _and that she had lived down the street from Harry all his life as a _fucking spy for Dumbledore._ Any doubt that Harry might have retained that Dumbledore maybe really hadn't known of Harry's shitty youth, flew right out the window with that revelation. Dumbledore had had a squib spying on him his whole life with the Dursley's. Any attempt to claim ignorance of Harry's mistreatment was a blatant lie. He knew.

Anyway, the old goat had questioned her recent observations of the Dursley's house, to see if she had noticed anyone, paying them a visit, that could have been responsible for the compulsion magic that he had detected when he'd visited them. But she had no idea. As far as she could tell, nothing out of the ordinary had gone on with the Dursley's at all.

All-in-all, the Order seemed to be exceedingly disorganized from Severus' descriptions; although Harry would grant them the fact that this was apparently the first official meeting that they'd had in more than a decade.

The meeting had concluded with the Weasley's offering their home for occasional smaller scale meetings, and Dumbledore thanking them, and saying he was in the process of trying to secure a more long-term headquarters for the Order to use.

Voldemort then spent the next few minutes relaying to Severus what new misinformation he should leak the next time he was called to one of these Order meetings, and then informing him of what specific details he would like the Potions Master to try and gain for him.

Finally Snape stood, bowed low and was dismissed from the conference room. Once Harry felt the man's magic leave the manor, he slithered off the table and onto the floor, and then transformed back into his human form.

"I can't fucking believe that goat-loving bastard had a squib spying on me my whole life! She was my fucking babysitter! And I hated her! She was Dumbledore's spy and she still treated me like shit!" Harry began to growl angrily as he started pacing back and forth in the room like an angry caged cat of some sort.

"And she _knew!_ That bloody bint _knew _exactly how those muggle bastards treated me, so she _had_ to have told Dumbledore. I _knew_ he knew what was going on! My whole life, he _knew!_ _FUCKING BASTARD!_"

Voldemort just remained seated in his chair, leaning back and calmly watching Harry as he ranted.

"Are you done yet?" he asked with a pointed look that made Harry sigh in frustration and come to sink into one the chair on Tom's right, and turn in it to face him.

"Every new detail I learn about that two-faced bastard and the things he's done to me just make me that much more furious. One of these days I'm going to fucking kill that man..." Harry paused and looked up at the Dark Lord suddenly before ducking his head. "Er... unless you want to do it."

Tom leaned back and crossed one leg over the other knee casually, giving Harry a long contemplative look. "No... I think I'll give you that honor."

Harry's head popped up and a big grin spread across his face. "Really?"

Voldemort gave a thoughtful nod before the corners of his lipless mouth turned up. "Yes, I think so. It may even be sooner than you would expect, depending on how my other plans progress. Dumbledore is the first major roadblock that we will need to deal with. Once he is out of the way, the Order will fall apart, leaving nothing but the Ministry itself standing in my way. You've already gotten a glimpse at how pathetically the Order is run, which is exactly the same as it was run in the previous war. Dumbledore holds his secrets desperately close, leaving all others so ignorant of his plans that no one could adequately take control should he suddenly die. And of course the Ministry is hardly going to be a challenge, it will simply require a little patience and a delicate hand."

"Wait, how soon are we talking here?" Harry asked, sitting forward and leaning one elbow on the table before him.

"I am inclined to think that we may be able to move within a year."

"Seriously?"

"Perhaps. We will see. There is much that needs to be accomplished first."

– –

That night when the two retired into the bedroom for the night Harry stripped down to nothing but boxers and then sat on the edge of the bed facing the door to the bathroom, waiting for Tom to come out.

Tom exited, once again, wearing nothing but muggle boxer-briefs that Harry had officially decided were utterly delicious-looking on the elder wizard, and had decided he would pick up a few for himself whenever they went out to shop. Harry stood and met Tom halfway, causing him to raise a slightly amused eyebrow at the younger wizard, but conceding easily when Harry initiated an embrace and locked lips with him.

All evening, Harry had felt the ever increasing magical pull towards Tom, like it was some sort of persistent itch at the back of his skull that he just couldn't get rid of or ignore. Now that they had finally connected, it was like what had been a tiny persistent pull, exploded and he felt everything was right and wonderful. The magical pull finally dissolved away and nothing was left but his own powerful desire for the man and the physical pleasure that their embrace was quickly conjuring in the base of his gut.

Tom's voice came out in a low hum from deep in his throat as their lips pressed against each other and Harry began to caress his hands along the elder wizard's smooth exposed back and sides. Tom's hand came up and dug its way into Harry's hair. His tongue pressed against Harry's lip but the younger man's lips didn't part instantly. Tom pulled _hard_ at Harry's hair, causing a startled gasp. He plunged his tongue in deep through Harry's now parted lips, earning a delicious erotic moan from Harry.

Harry's hands almost instantly became desperate and Tom reacted strongly when Harry's nails managed to scrap rather harshly down the older man's back. Harry worried for a moment that he may have hurt Tom, but an instant later it became clear that Tom's reaction was a positive one. Tom growled, pulled even harder on Harry's hair, which oddly enough, just brought about a powerful spike in the pleasure and lust in Harry's gut.

Their whole bodies pressed against tight, revealing every intimate surface to each other. Harry could feel Tom's growing arousal pressing and rubbing against his own and the glorious feeling was making him weak in the knees. Their lips parted, gasping for breath and it was Harry who instantly latched onto the older wizard's neck. The hallow of the neck, just below the Adam's apple, and the hallow below the ear. Those were the places that he had come to realize he liked the best. Tom was incredible with his tongue and mouth and Harry didn't feel he spent nearly enough time returning that favor to the older wizard and so he began to do just that in earnest. He trailed his tongue along Tom's Adam's apple, and smiled as it bobbed up and down when Tom swallowed thickly and a long low quiet moan escaped his mouth and his head lulled back slowly.

_Merlin, Tom has a beautiful neck. _Of course, Tom had a beautiful everything, as far as Harry was concerned. There wasn't a single part of the man's body that he didn't find attractive. He still had yet to _see_ a certain region, although he had at least felt it. He was also looking forward to seeing the man's arse, and the thought filled him with the silliest desire to reach down and grab the man's rear and squeeze. He quickly shoved that thought out of his mind as he trailed his tongue down lower and began to bite on Tom's collarbones.

_Beautiful collarbones... beautiful shoulders... beautiful..._

Tom pulled back and his hands came down to rest on Harry's shoulders to hold him at a distance. Harry whimpered in surprise and his eyes flew up to meet Tom's red, lust-filled orbs, with confusion and disappointment. Tom was panting lightly but that startled look was filling his face again, despite the obvious lust and desire still clouding his eyes.

Harry's mouth floundered slightly as he searched for the words that he wished to express but just wasn't sure how. He was confused, and if he were honest with himself, he was slightly hurt.

"Why?" Harry finally got out.

Tom looked at him with confusion for a moment before he sighed heavily and let his head come down and rest his forehead against Harry's. Yet he still remained silent. The two stood there, loosely embracing each other and slowly regaining their breath.

"We've done more than this before," Harry whispered, rather dejectedly. "I... I don't get why you've been stopping us now. I –"

Tom sighed again and took a step back, completely separating them. He ran his hand through his hair in a somewhat frustrated gesture.

"You're still so young..."

"Seriously? This is about my _age?_ But we've done more than this before! Technically, I'm older now than I was then!" Harry insisted.

"But I could stop myself from going too far before!"

"What the hell is 'too far'? And why the heck would that not still apply?"

"The bond, Harry! It's growing! Surely you've noticed?"

Harry blinked at him in confusion before his utterly ineloquent response of "Huh?" escaped him.

Tom growled in annoyed frustration and made a few harsh strides towards the door of the bedroom, causing Harry's chest to suddenly tighten with panic at the thought of the man just walking out of the room in the middle of whatever it was they were doing. But he didn't. He threw the door open, flicked his wrist and Harry felt a wave of the man's wandless magic escape him. A few moments later, an object came sailing through the air and flew right into Tom's hand. He shut the door and came right back to stand before Harry.

Tom's face was still a mask of frustrated annoyance as he flipped through the book quickly and came upon the portion he was apparently interested in. He spun the book around and shoved it into Harry's hands.

"What do you know about magical bonds?" Tom asked in a short, clipped tone. Harry looked from Tom, to the book, and back up to Tom again with utter bewilderment before he took the book and looked down at the page.

"Er... next to nothing, really..." Harry said hesitantly as he began to read the page.

_**Magical Bonds**_

_There are two primary types of bonds. The Naturally Occurring bond, and the Ritually Induced bond._

_Naturally occurring bonds exist between two people through the natural order of magic and the world. When two people have a natural bond, upon finding each other signs of the bond will begin to show. Prolonged exposure to each other will continue to strengthen the bond, and certain acts will continue to cement it until it reaches full completion. _

_A Ritually Induced bond does not exist until the Ritual is performed that creates it. Once the ritual is completed, the bond is generally complete, but in some cases, certain additional actions are needed to strengthen and complete it fully._

_A few examples of ritually induced bonds are the Magical Adoption bond and the Marriage bond._

_The Magical Adoption bond is used to create the unconditional love that most caring parents have for their birth children, and the trust, love, and respect that most children have for their parents, between an adult and child when an adoption bond ritual is performed._

_The Marriage Bond ritual was developed mostly as a result of the many arranged marriages that exist among powerful titled families. Two young adults who often had very little exposure or affection for each other would undergo the marriage bond to magically create a level of trust and affection between them to help them have a more successful and happy marriage. The Marriage bond went out of style when arranged marriages became less prevalent in wizarding society since it was seen as artificially creating love where there was none, but the bond itself did in fact create a deep sense of love, trust, and longing between the two people. It also only worked if both parties were willing._

_Examples of naturally occurring bonds include the Complementary Magic bond and the Soul bond._

_The Complimentary Magic bond occurs when two individuals find each other who's magic is so similar and compatible that they form a complimentary bond when performing magic near or with each other. Being in each other's presence will actually magnify the power of their individual magic, and any rituals performed together will be more powerful and effective due to the mingling of their compatible magic types. Even potions brewed will be more potent when brewed by the two witches or wizards together._

_The Soul Bond is one of the most powerful and least understood bonds in magic. It is also so exceedingly rare for two people who share a soul bond to find each other that it is a difficult subject to study._

_A soul bond exists between two people who's souls are destined for each other in both life and death. No matter what forces surround them, these people will find themselves drawn to each other. The connection is so strong that it can often also be turbulent. As a result, there have been instances where people who are bonded by their souls come together in aggression and a negative bond is formed. The two are pulled together by a powerful and inexplicable force, but instead of pulling them together in love, the power of the draw only increases the aggression and misleads them into approaching each other with violence. However, if a person is unfortunate enough to personally kill their soul bond, their life will be forever empty and desolate. _

_When Soul Bonded find each other and form a positive bond, the two will likely fall in love in the deepest and strongest way imaginable. True trust will exist between these individuals and they will be capable of relying on each other completely. They will find true contentment and happiness in each other's presence that is near impossible to find anywhere else. The longer they remain in each other's company and the closer and more intimate they become, the stronger the bond will grow, and the greater effect it will have on them. Those who develop a positive soul bond often also develop a complimentary magic bond as well._

_There are numerous other side effects recorded that occur from a fully formed soul bond, ranging from shared emotional empathy, to experiencing each other physical pain._

_A fully formed soul bond, while bringing great happiness and fulfillment to the witch or wizard's lives, suffers from the very real unfortunate effect that if one half of the bond dies, the other usually follows very shortly afterwards. They become so dependent on each other that one can simply not live without the other._

Harry stopped and looked up at Tom with a bewildered expression on his face.

"I don't get it... I mean, which one... are you saying that you think we have one of these bonds?" Harry asked.

Tom huffed out a slightly frustrated noise and turned to look slightly past the wall. "I am unsure. I'm not suggesting that what we have is one of _these specific bonds_, but I am saying that we have some sort of bond forming between the two of us. I have assumed that it is a side effect – the result of the various rituals that I have performed. My soul piece being lodged into you by accident, combined with the blood ritual that we performed that restored my body..."

"But according to the book, ritual induced bonds are usually instant. But our er... our _bond_ is growing with prolonged exposure."

"You do feel it then?"

"Well, _yeah. _I didn't really know what it was, but I've definitely noticed. I mean, when we first started _this,_" Harry motioned his hand, gesturing between the two of them, "we talked about the magical pull, but we didn't really go into it much... I guess on some level I've definitely realized that it's been increasing slowly, but I haven't really thought much on it." Harry paused for a second, going over what he'd read and thinking about what he'd been feeling over the last few weeks. "I know you said that you thought the magical pull between us was a result of the rituals and the whole 'me housing a piece of your soul' thing, but what if this bond isn't ritually induced?"

Tom quirked an eyebrow and motioned his hand as if to say 'continue.'

"Well who's to say that we weren't both destined to form some sort of bond from the start? Even without all the soul and blood ritual stuff. I mean, there _is_ a bloody prophecy about all this. Made before I was even born. What if this really _is_ a naturally occurring bond? It's growing the way a natural bond would, right? With more exposure to each other and more... interactions... it grows stronger. I'm always feeling it now; this _need_ to be near you. And I do trust you. I trust you with my life. With my happiness... I trust you with everything. You... I just..." Harry huffed and ran his hair through his shaggy black hair, tugging on it rather roughly and sighing a bit as he suddenly wished that it had been Tom to pull it. _Bloody hell he was really becoming warped in what calmed him down._

Tom made the few quick strides necessary to come standing directly before Harry and placed his hands on Harry's shoulders, holding him tightly. The strong grip felt right to Harry and he sighed, relieved by both the increased nearness as well as the oddly reassuring, controlling, gesture.

"The soul bond?" Tom stated, more than asked.

Harry nodded his head slowly. "It... sort of fits, really. The way it could have gone either way. It fits with the prophecy too. Two people drawn to each other so strongly that they're either destined to be mortal enemies or become –"

"Lovers."

"Exactly," Harry said nodding his head. He looked up then, into Tom's piercing red eyes. Tom was keeping his mask up with a powerful force so Harry really wasn't sure what the other man was thinking or feeling. It saddened Harry sometimes to realize that Tom still didn't always trust Harry with his true feelings. But the man had lived a lot longer, and had never really trusted anyone, so he could understand that the mask was a hard habit to break. He knew that he saw more of Tom's true emotions than anyone else ever really got to see, and for that he was grateful.

Harry's hand raised up slowly and it caught Tom's eye. Tom followed it as it came up and rest gently on his cheek. Harry lightly brushed his fingers along the side of Tom's face, brushing the pad of his thumb along Tom's sharp cheekbones and then letting his fingers slide into the elder man's soft black hair. Tom's eyes reluctantly closed and he leaned his head into the touch. He even sighed lightly and Harry couldn't help but smile radiantly, knowing that he could do that to Tom. That he could affect Tom the way that Tom affected him.

"If this really is some sort of destined bond..." Harry began hesitantly and Tom slowly opened his eyes to look at Harry. His red eyes were softer now and traces of the man's emotions were showing through now. "Then... why fight it?"

Tom sighed and lowered his eyes slightly. "It's not that simple Harry..."

"Why not?"

"The bond will continue to draw us together intimately until we fulfill the bond. You're still too young for that Harry. It's one thing for the two of us to..." he hesitated for a moment before huffing slightly, "to pleasure each other the ways that we have in the past, but actual _sex_... you're just –"

"Says who? What the hell does it really matter? Loads of people lose their virginity at fourteen or fifteen."

"Yes, perhaps, but sex between two men is not exactly the same, is it? I have no desire to hurt you, Harry," Tom said sharply causing Harry to blink back, slightly startled.

"You're afraid you'll hurt me?" Harry asked, both surprised a bit, as well as touched. He actually found himself smiling slightly.

"I _know_ I will hurt you Harry. I am not exactly a _small_ man," Tom said with a pointed look. Harry blushed at the insinuation, but also found a pleasant curling in his gut at the thought as well as the reminder the one time he had handled the insinuated body part directly, brought to him. Harry cleared his throat, trying to regain himself and his dignity.

"I know you'll try your hardest not to hurt me, and it'll only get better after that, right? I mean, I've got to get used to it at some point. I doubt I'm going to be doing too much more growing. I already sped my growth up quite a bit with the accelerant potion, so I doubt that there will be a lot of difference in my um, room for you... breaking me in now, versus doing it later – I don't see any real benefit in waiting."

Tom snorted and turned away while muttering 'breaking you in' under his breath with an air of sarcastic disdain. Finally he sighed heavily.

"I'm not accustomed to feeling things like this," Tom said quietly, still turned away from Harry. "I have very conflicting urges regarding all of this. It is... difficult for me."

Harry stood there, stunned for a moment by the confession, but recovered and took a few steps forward and wrapped his arms around Tom's waist, resting his hands on Tom's stomach and laying his head against the man's shoulder.

Tom pulled in a slow, deep, breath and let it out just as slowly. "Let's go to bed," he said finally.

Harry nodded his head against Tom's shoulder and pulled back to allow the older wizard to turn around in his grasp. They kissed lightly before pulling apart completely and going to their individual sides of the bed and pulling back the blankets.

They settled easily into the center of the bed and Tom turned off the lights with a wave of his hand while Harry curled into his side and rest his head on Tom's shoulder.

"Goodnight, Tom," Harry whispered.

"Goodnight," Tom said as he pressed his lips to Harry's forehead.

– –

The next day, Tom woke first and Harry regained consciousness to the feeling of the elder wizard gently brushing his fingers through Harry's hair.

They went through their standard morning exercises and after they had each showered, Tom insisted that they move directly into the Runes lesson because his afternoon and evening would be full that day. Apparently every Death Eater who was an employee of the Ministry was coming for a group meeting to discuss various tactics that Tom had planned. Harry asked if he should attend as either Evan Harris, or in his snake form but Tom dismissed it as unnecessary since the meeting would not really benefit him any and it would likely find it very boring.

After an hour and a half of discussion on the reading and some exercises, the lesson was done, and they switched to some Arithmancy for about a half hour before having an early lunch.

Tom transformed into his Voldemort visage and left to prepare for the meeting while Harry decided to take a walk around the grounds. He visited the stables, which had been fixed up by the house elves to work as rather nice home for Hedwig. Being daytime like it was, she was in there sleeping quietly, but perked up slightly when he entered. He gently pet her and fed her a few treats while she perched on his shoulder and nipped playfully at his ear and ever-lengthening hair. He chatted with her for a while, quietly sharing his thoughts with her, mostly for the need to just get his thoughts sorted out for himself. Finally she hopped back onto her perch and he left to go back inside. He could feel the magical signatures of quite a few wizards inside the manor now and could tell from Voldemort's powerful magical pulse that he was in the large conference room with the group of them now.

Harry wandered the manor for a while after that, exploring the rest of the rooms on the second and third floor that he had yet to enter before that point. The third floor was occupied mostly by what was obviously intended to be bedrooms, however they were all empty. Only two rooms, the room that he had stayed in once a few months ago, and one other just down the hall from it, were actually furnished with a bed. The rest were completely bare.

Harry spent about a half hour in the 3rd floor storage room, looking over the various trinkets that Tom had recovered from his storehouse earlier that year. This was the room that the box of wands and the pensieve were stored in, so he had been in there a few times before, but never with the time to simply explore it.

He was hesitant to touch much of anything though simply because he had no idea what most of it did, and was pretty sure that quite a few of the objects were, in fact, _cursed_.

Finally, Harry made his way down to the first floor and after some light exploration, he found the kitchens. Mixey and Grader were both in there, and instantly came to attention upon Harry's arrival. Seeing the kitchen sparked an idea for Harry and he asked the elves if they would mind if he took over the kitchen from them for the afternoon. They were both visibly disturbed by this idea, and it took a considerable amount of persuasion for him to talk the little creatures into allowing him to cook. In fact, he had ended up having to just _order them_ to go do something else, and allow him free reign.

Harry realized that he had very little experience in a magical kitchen, and all of his extra magical training and self-instruction outside of his normal class work had done nothing for his magical domestic skills. But cooking was cooking, and he managed despite several setbacks.

About an hour into Harry's cooking excursion, Harry felt a powerful spike in the Dark Magic in the manor that made his heart skip a beat, caused him to gasp, and caused a delicious curling to form in the pit of his stomach. The next moment he heard the distant, muffled screaming of someone under the Cruciatus. Voldemort's exquisite Dark Magic was vibrating through the entire manor, and the _flavor_ of it as the Dark Lord brought about a powerful level of pain and suffering in the unfortunate wizard, made Harry pause in his cooking and stifle a moan.

The curse was cut off abruptly causing Harry to whimper and then sigh. He wished he could have been there in the meeting, if only to be present when Tom cast _that spell_. But he likely would have ended up aroused to the point of distraction if he were in the room with the other man at the time, so it was probably for the best that he wasn't in there. Instead, he refocused on the cooking, hoping to distract himself from the tingling of dark magic that still lightly danced through the air.

Shortly after five thirty Harry felt the group of magical signatures begin to move and, one-by-one, they vanished from the manor. All except for Voldemort, of course. Harry quickly finished up the last few things he was working on, set the various dishes onto two plates and levitated them, in addition to the some goblets and a bottle of red wine, out of the kitchen and down the hall towards the dining room. Voldemort exited the conference room and came to a stop in the hall as he watched Harry with a bewildered look on his face. The expression was so entirely _wrong_ on his serpentine face that it caused Harry to chuckle and almost lose his focus. He recovered quickly and finished levitating the food into the dining room and quickly set the table. Voldemort followed behind, now with a mild air of amusement on his face.

"What is the meaning of this?" he asked as Harry finished setting the table.

"I cooked," Harry said with a self-satisfied grin.

"You _cooked?"_ Voldemort echoed, incredulously. "Why?"

Harry chuckled. "Because I haven't in ages, and I've never gotten to cook for someone else who I actually _liked _and _wanted_ to cook for. I've only ever cooked for myself and for those stupid muggles I had to live with."

"Considering the circumstances under which you were forced to learn the skill, I wouldn't expect you to enjoy doing it."

Harry shrugged. "Oddly enough, I actually kind of do. I got pretty good at it – at least, I think so, and the Dursley's certainly seemed to like it – not that they'd ever _thank me_. I guess it was pretty much the only thing I could do growing up that could please the bastards at all, so I took a modicum of pride in it. Anyway, it's ready, so do you want to eat now, or do you need some more time?"

"Now is fine," Voldemort said easily as he walked over and wrapped one long-fingered, bone-white hand around the back of Harry's head, into his hair and pulled the younger wizard close and kissing him with a surprising amount of passion. Harry hummed in both surprise and pleasure as he reached up and wrapped his hands around the Dark Lord's neck and trailed his hand up and down the semi-scaled skin of the man's bald head and neck.

The kiss deepened and Harry felt the older wizard's tongue pressing against his lips and opened instinctively. He almost gasped in surprise when a forked tongue entered his mouth. He and Tom were rarely intimate like this when Tom was in his Voldemort form so this was a new discovery and he couldn't help but find that he liked it. He moaned slightly and pulled the other man tighter against him as he brushed against the other man's strange tongue with his own. Their embrace and kiss continued for a minute before the two pulled apart. Harry grinned at Voldemort while the elder smirked back.

"As much as I'm enjoying this, I would hate for your meal to go to waste," Voldemort said with a lecherous gleam to his eyes and a smirk on his lipless face.

Harry grinned and ducked his head slightly sheepishly. When he looked back up, Voldemort was transforming back into Tom and his face had softened again. The two split apart and took their seats at the table.

Conversation struck up easily enough during the meal. Harry asked how the meeting went, and it was apparently fairly successful. Tom was hoping to get several high Ministry officials under the Imperius, but only so many of his Death Eaters ever really had the opportunity to get close to those he wanted. Out of those, only a few were even any good at casting the curse, and they simply could not afford a failed Impirius curse since it would give away the one who cast it.

Voldemort had instructed all of those who were not necessarily any good at casting the Impirius to return to the manor the following week for some training, and at dinner, Tom told Harry that he should be there to help in the training since he was such a natural at it. Harry had ducked his head and grinned at the compliment.

After dinner they retired to the study. Harry ran through a bunch of Arithmancy equations while Tom worked on sorting through a stack of intelligence reports he had gotten from his Death Eaters so far that week and formulating some more plans.

The time finally arrived that Tom suggested retiring to bed and Harry set his work aside and easily agreed. The two made it up to the room and each set about their nightly routine to prepare for bed. Harry had just finished tossing his clothes into the hamper and re-entered the bedroom when a thought struck him.

"So who got crucio'd today in the meeting?" Harry asked with a smirk.

Tom was in the bathroom but the door was open.

"Oh, that was dear Lucius," Tom replied with amusement in his voice.

"Lucy? What'd he do?"

Tom snorted quietly. Apparently he found the nickname humorous. "Oh, nothing new. I was merely claiming restitution for his actions with the diary."

"Ah, I see."

"I consider this evening a down-payment," Tom added as he turned off the bathroom light and re-entered the bedroom. He was smirking wickedly and Harry couldn't help but chuckle.

Tom walked directly over to the bed and pulled back the covers. Harry pouted lightly but pushed the reaction aside and went over to his side of the bed and did the same. The two climbed in under the covers and easily assumed their usual positions. Harry, however, wasn't the least bit tired. Even now that it was several hours later, he could still clearly remember the feel of Tom's magic as he cast the unforgivable torture curse earlier that evening.

He wrapped his left arm over Tom's chest and found himself aimlessly trailing his fingers over the man's smooth skin. He could feel electric tingles of his and Tom's magic as they danced together under his fingertips. Tom's breathing hitched as Harry's fingers trailed over the older wizard's nipple.

The feel of the other man's skin, mingled with the alluring call of their magic mixing together was making Harry feel lightheaded and tingly all over. He breathed in deep of Tom's musky, earth, and cinnamon scent, and leaned in closer, burying his nose in Tom's neck.

"Mmmm..." Harry hummed as he pressed his face against the older man's neck.

"Harry..." Tom said in a breathy whisper as Harry's lips came up against his neck and parted. Harry began to kiss, delicately at first, but then open mouthed. He licked and sucked, and Tom remained quiet for a few minutes with only his increased breathing to indicate a response.

Harry's fingers continued to tease Tom's nipples, and he found himself intrigued with the way they pebbled and stiffened. Harry was trailing his mouth further up and had just begun to lick and tease Tom's Adam's apple when the older wizard growled loudly. Harry barely had time to recognize the sound had been made when he was suddenly being rolled off of Tom's side and onto his back, and Tom was over top of him, pinning him down.

Harry gasped; both stunned by the sudden movement, and aroused by it. Tom was suddenly straddling Harry's hips, and his hands were now wrapped roughly around Harry's wrists, pinning them each to the bed on either side of Harry's head. Harry looked up into glowing ruby eyes. He was panting lightly, and his eyes were glazed with lust and desire.

"Do you really want this?" Tom hissed out, somewhat breathlessly.

Harry groaned loudly and ground himself against Tom's pelvis, straddling his own. "_Yes!" _Harry hissed with an air of desperation.

Tom moaned lightly at the delicious friction and Harry could feel the powerful magic around them pulling taught. It was like a rubber-band that was being pulled tighter and tighter.

"I want you, Harry," Tom said in a low, velvety voice that made Harry feel as if he were about to melt. "But I want _all_ of you. I can't settle for any less."

"I'm yours Tom. All yours," Harry panted while nodding his head emphatically.

"It will hurt."

"Then hurt me. I want this." As if to punctuate his statement, Harry bucked his pelvis up again, grinding it against Tom's. The Dark Lord growled and ground right back, causing Harry's head to fall back on the pillow and a low groan to escape his lips.

The band was pulling tighter and tighter. Harry knew he couldn't stop now, even if he had wanted to. He _needed_ to connect with the other man. He _needed_ to join with him like this. He didn't care if it would hurt. He almost wanted it to. He wanted something, _anything_ from the other man. Something to fill this need that was growing deep inside him.

**-Lemon-**

Suddenly Tom was attacking his lips. Harry instantly reciprocated, and Tom's tongue entered the younger wizard's mouth, claiming the first bit of territory in his conquest. Harry arched up and pressed himself against Tom as much as he could manage. Tom held his wrists tightly in his fists and the restraining force caused a strangely powerful reaction in Harry that he didn't entirely understand, but knew he liked.

Tom moved his hands, still holding Harry's wrists up to above Harry's head and switched so he was holding both hands with just one of his. He then reached down with his now free hand and grabbed a fistful of Harry's hair and pulled Harry's head to the side, forcefully to expose his neck. He latched onto it, biting and sucking; lavishing Harry with sinful delights and had him writing and moaning senselessly.

Harry's senses were all on overload and he couldn't make heads or tails of anything for several long minutes. There was only pleasure and sensation, and pain, and control, and magic. Tom's hands, and Tom's tongue, and Tom's teeth, and his cock, brushing and rubbing deliciously against Harry's, bringing him so close to the edge, but then pulling away when he sensed that Harry was nearing his completion, driving him absolutely mad with need.

Finally Tom pulled back, causing Harry to whimper in shock at the sudden lost of sensation. But Tom didn't stop. He released Harry's wrists and hair and began to move south. His tongue trailed over Harry's nipples and trailed down his stomach, to dip, momentarily, into Harry's belly button. Tom's hands gripped almost painfully at Harry's hips, holding him still for an agonizing moment while he tried to arch his pelvis up towards the other man, but was restrained.

Tom smirked up at Harry with a wickedness that only made Harry moan loudly with desire and need. Finally, Tom trailed his hands over Harry's boxers.

"Are you attached to these?" Tom asked, causing Harry to blink down at him in confusion.

"Huh? Wha... no. No..."

"Good," Tom said smirking. He waved his right hand over Harry and the boxers vanished without a trace. The sudden loss of fabric brought a rush of cooler air to Harry's skin as he was suddenly exposed to the other man. He gasped in surprise but then moaned at the hungry look in Tom's eyes as he looked down at him.

Harry's eyes widened as he saw Tom's tongue dart out and trail a long, torturous trail of warm saliva along his cock. Harry almost cried out at the touch and the wave of different sensations it brought with it. But the next moment he was completely engulfed with warmth and wetness and he _did_ call out. He nearly screamed at the unbelievable sensation, and had to fight hard, to keep himself from bucking up into Tom's face.

Tom pulled back, releasing Harry from his mouth. His hand came up and flicked slightly. Harry felt the magic of the wandless summoning charm and heard a drawer off to the side somewhere open up and saw as some small object blurred past his vision and into Tom's hand.

Harry was panting and his mind was buzzing from the mountain of overwhelming forces, waging war on his senses, so he wasn't even entirely aware of what was going on until he felt something cool and wet probing at his entrance. He gasped in shock as he felt one of Tom's fingers circling and massaging him.

"Relax," Tom hissed quietly.

Harry nodded his head quickly, not trusting himself to get anything sensible past his lips. Tom's free arm pushed lightly on one of Harry's legs and the younger wizard instantly shifted his pelvis and folded his legs up and apart, exposing himself to Tom.

Tom continued to massage around his entrance and Harry gasped and then moaned in surprise of how good it felt. He was already so aroused, and so sensitive that every little thing seemed intense and wonderful. And then suddenly it wasn't just a massage on the outside. The feel of being penetrated was shocking. It was uncomfortable for a moment as Tom's finger first made its way past the outer ring of muscle, but then it was so... different. So new. Warm and tight and pressure in places he'd never really felt it before. Tom moved deeper and then inserted a second finger. Harry gasped quietly at the added presence, but then cried out in shocked pleasure as the two fingers deep inside him pressed against something amazing. He arched his back involuntarily before pressing back down, wanting to feel more of that amazing pressure.

Tom moved his fingers in and out several times and with each inward thrust he pressed up against _that spot_ and Harry quickly dissolved into a writhing mass of goo. He could feel Tom's magic working on him down there, exciting certain nerves, while deadening others. He knew the other man didn't want to hurt him. That he wanted this to be good. Harry just wanted it to happen. He _needed it_.

"Tom... _please_... please, I... I need you," Harry panted.

Tom made a scissoring motion with his fingers a few times, stretching Harry in attempt to prepare him for the eminent intrusion. Finally he pulled his fingers out, causing Harry to whimper in surprise at the incredible loss.

Tom moved quickly upwards, and pulled Harry's mouth to his own, kissing him with an intense desperation that Harry rarely felt from the other man. Finally he slipped back down and maneuvered Harry's legs up and positioned himself at Harry's base. Harry wasn't even sure when Tom had banished his own briefs, but didn't spare it much thought for very long. He felt the intense pressure as Tom began to press at his entrance and clenched his teeth together to keep from crying out as the head of Tom's member breached the ring of muscle. It was painful, but it was also slightly numb. The pain was quickly overpowered by the sudden, intense sensation of magic, surrounding him, inside and out.

Tom gasped quietly, and before Harry could register much else, he was suddenly thrust into, deep and hard.

Harry screamed out, but the pain was _good_. His hand flew up and his nails dug into Tom's back, pulling him closer. His heels dug into Tom's backside and pushed him in deeper.

Tom pulled back slightly and then thrust back in a moment later. Again, Harry screamed out from the shock of how intense it all was. How right and good.

"_More!"_ Harry screamed out and Tom acquiesced instantly.

Again and again, Tom thrust into Harry and they quickly built up a furious pace, surrounded by a maelstrom of magic and power and pleasure. Harry could feel everything building up, building up to some tremendous peak. He felt mindless and hungry for more. He needed it. He needed Tom. He wanted to experience the other man reaching his completion while joined like this. They were _one_ like this. There was no closer connection than this. He could _feel_ Tom. It was so far beyond words. Beyond reason.

Harry found himself panting and screaming out nonsense in time with Tom's powerful, rhythmic thrusts. Tom made growling and hissing-like noises, but said nothing at first. Without warning, Harry suddenly realized that Tom's hisses were twisting into words. Words that only Harry could understand.

_§Harry...§ _Tom hissed quietly along with his strained grunts. _§Sso tight... sssso... warm... sssoooo good...§_

"Oh, Circe! Tom! I'm coming!" Harry moaned out.

_Yes! Yes... now, Harry. Now!_ Tom screamed as he began to growl and groan and did one last, deep thrust. Harry felt himself explode twice. Once for himself and once for Tom, but at the same moment and it was beyond explanation. He screamed out in pleasure and pain and need and fulfillment, and Tom was screaming with him as he jerked erratically against him. Harry could feel the other man's seed ejecting inside of him and the experience was so unlike anything he had ever felt before.

**-/Lemon-**

And then the magic dispersed like a storm suddenly clearing and leaving nothing but a clear black starry nights sky in its place. Tom slipped out and collapsed into Harry's body, panting for a moment before he slipped to the side, leaving only half of his body resting on Harry's while the younger wizard's breathing slowly returned to normal and he let his legs fall flat onto the bed.

As the two men drifted off to a deep, rested, sleep, they were entirely unaware of the faint pulsing glow emanating from the pair of them.

– –

Harry woke the next morning to find Tom already awake and staring at him with that rare softness in his eyes. Harry smiled up at him groggily for a moment before burying his face deeper into Tom's neck and mumbling something about not wanting to get up yet.

Tom chuckled lightly and began to run his hand through Harry's hair in a gentle, soothing motion. After a moment Harry pulled back just enough so that his voice wouldn't be muffled anymore.

"Hey, Tom?"

"Yes, love?"

Harry's mouth moved to continue but his voice died in his throat for a second before he recovered from the small surprise. He cleared his throat and continued. "Last night was amazing," he whispered with a smile on his lips.

Tom chuckled. "Ah... yes it was."

– –


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary: Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta Pass by tannne

Chapter 3

The morning progressed just like any other morning. Workout for a little more than an hour. Showers, breakfast, thirty minutes of Arithmancy review, and then a group of Death Eaters arrived for a meeting. This was where things diverged for the first time. Instead of Harry being sent off to entertain himself, Tom had him attend the meeting as well, in his 'Evan Harris' persona, of course. None of it specifically pertained to Harry, but Tom said he wanted Harry to start getting acquainted with the Death Eaters and become more familiar with Tom's plans and how his organization ran.

Harry certainly had no qualms with any of this, and took a seat in the conference room to Tom's right. It was another group gathering. This time all of those who had been called were influential high society pure-bloods with political power or seats in the Wizengamot. Tom had apparently already personally debriefed everyone who came, and now was a planning and assignment session.

It was slightly boring, but mostly because Harry simply had no idea what most of the things they were talking about were or what they meant. But he tried to stay focused and absorb as many details as he could manage. He also took notes for Tom when directed.

Throughout the morning Harry had had the strangest feeling in the back of his head, but he hadn't really paid it much attention. It was almost like an echo, and at times it almost felt like the times he was in classes back at Hogwarts and his companion had entered his mind . The feeling made him suddenly realize that he hadn't entered his mindscape in nearly two weeks, and that his companion was almost constantly absent from his conscious mind. He actually felt a bit guilty about this – feeling like he was neglecting the bit of Tom's soul inside him, when it had helped him out so much for so long. Harry realized that he had let himself get distracted by his ponderings when Voldemort instructed him to record something in his notes and he quickly refocused on the meeting.

To say that the high-society Death Eaters present at the meeting did not appear pleased with 'Evan's' presence would be an understatement. But they were also cowed enough by Voldemort's glares to try and hide some of their disdain.

When the meeting came to an end, the Death Eaters were dismissed from the manor and Harry, still wearing his glamor ring, of course, and Voldemort sat for a late lunch while Voldemort explained several things from the meeting that Harry hadn't entirely understood.

It was just as they were finishing up their meal that Mixey appeared with the first batch of letters from Harry's post box in France. Harry went a bit wide-eyed at the number of letters, but set them aside so he could finish his meal.

Tom had another meeting scheduled for later that afternoon, and once again, wanted Harry to attend, but they had two hours until then. Voldemort suggested that the two of them skip the dueling training for that day and retire to the study so he could finish up some preparations for the coming meeting, and so Harry could go through his mail.

Once in the study, Voldemort reverted back to Tom, but cast a locking ward on the door. Not that any Death Eater who entered the manor would have the gall to enter Voldemort's personal study without knocking first, but Tom was never one to deny his own strong sense of paranoia.

He sat down in the chair behind his desk and quickly set to going through the notes that Harry had taken, as well as making a number of notes of his own and opening up a planning book that Harry had often seen him writing in. Harry slipped down into his usual place beside Tom's chair and began to sort through his letters.

There was one that was addressed to just _'Harry Potter'_ in Albus Dumbledore's long, slanting, loopy scrawl. Harry scowled at it and moved it to the bottom of the pile. There were three separate letters from the Weasleys. One from Ron, one from Ginny, and one from the twins. They were all addressed to his post box address, so obviously Ron had shared it with his siblings.

Another letter was from Hermione – again, addressed to his post box address – and the last letter in the pile was a mystery.

Harry decided to read Hermione's first and quickly opened the envelope and pulled out the letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_How are you? You better write back right away because I want to make sure that you're really alright, and that you're really getting this letter!_

_How's France? Are you having fun wherever it is that you're hiding out at?_

_I have a confession to make. I wasn't entirely honest with you and Ron about what I'm doing this summer. I would have told you the truth, but every time it came up, Ron was always there, and it just kept slipping my mind._

_So I told you that my parents were taking me to Italy for the first three weeks of the holiday, but I'm not here with just my parents. I'm also here with Viktor and his parents. They were planning a trip to Greece and Italy as well, and when we both realized that our summer plans were so similar we ended up making arrangements to vacation together. Again – I would have told you, but I'm sure you can imagine how Ron would react if he knew, and I just didn't want to start up some new petty feud with Ron so late in the year._

_It's been just lovely so far, Harry. I'm having so much fun! Viktor has been such a romantic gentleman. You would never expect it, but Viktor is a real 'mamma's boy'. It's so cute to see him around his mother. His father is a very proud and strict man on the outside, but when he's with his wife, he's very loving. It's really amazing to see how his family works in private. They're really nice people._

_I was a little worried how they would take to my parents at first since they are very old-blood and Viktor's father is a member of the Dark Party in the Russian magical government – did you know that Russia's magical governing system is split into three political parties based on one's magical affinity? The legislature is separated between representatives from the Light, Dark, and Neutral Parties. I must admit that I really had no idea, and it was quite a shock when I first discovered it. I hope that this doesn't make you uncomfortable... but Viktor's mother, Akilina, has explained to me that in Russia, one's magical affinity isn't so strongly associated with concepts like 'good and evil' as it is in Britain. And they're really such nice people. It's been quite an eye opening experience seeing how magical people from another country approach these ideas and concepts. _

_Anyway, I've digressed... I was worried about how his parents would react to my parents since they're muggles, but they've been nothing but kind and polite. Viktor's father is a bit cold to them, but Viktor assures me that it's really just how he acts with anyone he doesn't know very well._

_So Rome has been absolutely amazing. It's so beautiful and there is so much old magic buried deep and hidden throughout the city. We're going to be going to Greece next week and visit Athens and I'm really looking forward to it. _

_You were right about underaged magic being allowed here. The only requirement is that a magical adult is somewhere around for supervision, and with Viktor's parents here, I've been able to perform magic without anything to worry about getting in trouble. It's been really great to finally be able to demonstrate some magic for my parents. With the restriction for underaged wizardry in place in Britain, I really haven't ever been able to show them anything during the summers so they haven't even been able to see any of the results from the education they're paying for._

_Let's see... oh! Alright, well you know me – I'm not one to kiss and tell, or to ever get involved in that giggly girl nonsense – but I'm just so excited, and seeing as how I've caught you a few times after your snogging sessions with your secret-someone-special, it's only fair that you have some dirt on me in return. So let's just say that I'm glad that I was there that morning that Ginny taught you those glamor and healing charms or else I'm sure I would be answering some very uncomfortable questions to my parents!_

_I'm going to miss Viktor so much when he and his family leave. They're only able to stay for the first two weeks of summer holiday because then Viktor's father has to return to Russia for his work and Viktor tells me that he has some very important meetings lined up for some work opportunities now that he's graduated._

_I'm being just awful, going on and on about Viktor, aren't I? You're probably bored to tears. Anyway, how are things going with your special beau? You're there with him right? I hope the two of you are being safe and not going too far, but then again, you're there with his parents, right? So I imagine that there's only so much you can do without upsetting them._

_Make sure you don't get so distracted by him that you put off starting your summer homework till the last minute. You're not with those awful relatives of yours so there's no reason you can't start on your assignments right away._

_Write back soon, Harry! I miss you! Hope you're having a wonderful holiday._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

Harry stared at the letter for a moment with a small smirk on his lips. He couldn't help but wonder about that bit with Viktor Krum's parents and their association with Russia's Dark Magic party.

From the letter it didn't look like Hermione had been approached by Dumbledore about Harry's disappearing act yet, but she had gone straight out of country as soon as she was home from Hogwarts, so the old goat probably hadn't had the opportunity.

Harry set that letter aside and opened up Ron's. It was much shorter, as Ron's letters always were.

_Hey Harry,_

_Dumbledore showed up the day after we got back from school and questioned us about you being gone. He found out fast, didn't he?_

_I didn't want to tell him anything, but my mum threw a big fit, and they think that You-Know-Who might be back! Do you think it's true? They were in a real panic though. Apparently they thought that you got kidnapped by Death Eaters or something. You'd better write back real fast so I know that you're really okay._

_Oh, and I gave your address to Ginny and the Twins. They threatened to string me up by my ankles if I didn't fill them in a little. Sorry mate._

_Hope you're having a fun summer so far!_

_Ron_

Harry set that one aside and moved onto Ginny's next.

_Dear Harry,_

_I cannot believe you didn't warn me! I won't get too angry because I realize that the fewer people who knew you were going to run away the better, but it still irks me that you told my loud-mouth brother and didn't tell me at all! You better really be okay because we overheard mum and dad talking with Dumbledore and mum said something about You-Know-Who being back, which is just terrifying and I hope it's not true._

_I know you probably didn't want the details of your home-life with those awful muggles getting around, but Ron sort of blew up at Professor Dumbledore when he came here. Ron said that they beat you and starved you. Merlin, Harry, is it true? I always knew that something had to be going on, and I feel terrible that I never said anything. You would always come back so thin and miserable after a summer with those people, and then there was that time when my brothers went and rescued you in our dad's car, and they had to break bars off your window. And of course there was how they acted when we went to fetch you for the Quidditch World Cup... _

_Awful, awful people! I hope they rot in hell!_

_After mum heard some of what Ron had to say she threw a big fit at Professor Dumbledore. It's fun to watch when it's not directed at you! Mum is downright terrifying when she's upset and she was __definitely upset__ with Dumbledore for making you stay with people who would treat you like that._

_They're still dead set on finding you though. The whole You-Know-Who thing has got them all freaked out and they want to find you and make sure you're somewhere 'safe'. I have to agree with Ron though – if even Dumbledore can't find you, I doubt that You-Know-Who or any Death Eaters can either. Mum did make Dumbledore promise that no matter what, you wouldn't be sent back to those muggles. It sounds like you'd probably end up coming to stay with us, but who knows?_

_So anyway, France, huh? Does that mean all those hickeys were from some Beauxbaton's boy? Here Hermione and I were trying to figure out which house your boyfriend was from and we never even stopped to think that maybe you'd hooked up with one of the boys from the other schools! We should have thought of that! I mean, Hermione's been seeing Viktor from Durmstrang, so I don't know why we never thought of that for you._

_Anyway, I miss you! I hope you're having fun this summer with that boy of yours and you'd better write back soon so I know you're really okay. Just don't include anything that might give away where you are because I'm almost positive that mum will try to read any of our mail that comes from you._

_Gin_

Harry chuckled at the mental image of Mrs. Weasley laying into Dumbledore and Tom glanced down at him.

"Interesting letters?"

"Ginny Weasley. Apparently when Dumbledore went to the Weasley's to question them about my disappearance, Ron went and blurted out how the muggles treated me. It set off Molly Weasley and she ripped into Dumbledore something fierce."

"I can imagine that might have been amusing to witness," Tom said airily with a small smirk.

"Molly Weasley can be a rather terrifying person to go up against when she's in her 'mother hen' mode. So yes... I imagine it would have been fun to witness."

Harry set Ginny's letter down in the pile with Ron and Hermione's and opened up the twins letter. It was basically a mix of the letter from Ron and Ginny; repeating a lot of the same things, but also added in a status report on their work on their inventions. They had a whole slew of products in the works and plans for more. They were apparently setting aside a portion of Harry's winnings to use to pay test subjects the following year at school. Harry could just imagine the chaos that would result from that.

Once he was through with that one he moved onto the mystery letter, opting to put Dumbledore's letter off until last.

The mystery letter was simply addressed to 'Mr. Harry Potter' with no additional address on it. The back was sealed in wax with a stamp in it that, upon closer examination, Harry realized was the emblem of the Ministry of Magic. His eyes widened slightly and he broke the seal and pulled out the letter.

It was on rather official looking stationary from _the Office of the Minister for Magic_. It was a simple and polite invitation to tea for July 12th at 2pm at an old proper teahouse towards the ritzier end of Diagon Alley.

Harry smirked. "I got an invitation to tea from the Minister," he said.

Tom's pen stopped mid-stroke and he looked down at Harry with raised eyebrows. "Did you now? When?"

"July 12th at a teahouse in Diagon Alley at 2pm. Kind of a public place, but I suppose that's sort of the point since it's intended to look like I'm endorsing him. This is just a political move, after all."

"Of course," Tom said dismissively.

"Do you think I can do it? I mean... mightn't Dumbledore be able to track me down?"

"I have an amulet that you'll need to wear whenever you leave the manor that will prevent any tracking spells from being able to lock onto you. I wear one anytime I am outside the safety of the wards."

"Oh... brilliant."

"We can get some of our own shopping done that day. Get our own things out of the way before the meeting. Since it will be out in the public the chance remains that someone working for Dumbledore could see you there and report it to him, but you can keep your portkey on you and use it to leave if anyone tries to approach you. Diagon Alley has designated apparition zones with anti-apparition wards around everything else, but it does not have anti-portkey wards."

"Legal portkeys have to be issued by the Ministry though... won't there be the chance that someone might question what I'm doing with my own personal portkey?"

"Well, obviously, you'd be best served by not using it when anyone else is watching," Tom said with a pointed look.

"Right," Harry said ducking his head and grinning sheepishly. "Anyway, he wants a response to confirm the meeting, so I'll probably want to get that taken care of soon."

"I can conjure you a chair and you can use my desk," Tom offered, as he refocused on his own work and resumed scratching away on his own piece of parchment.

"Uhm... maybe. I'll write out all my responses at once. I've still got one letter left – one from Dumbledore – and I'm probably better off getting his letter read and out of the way first."

"Dumbledore? Well let me know if he has anything of interest to say."

Harry snorted quietly and set the Minister's invitation aside. He picked up Dumbledore's letter in his hands and stared at it with considerable reluctance. Finally he let out a huff of air and broke the seal.

_Mr. Harry Potter,_

_Harry, it has come to my attention that you have not returned to your relatives home for the summer holidays. When I first discovered your absence I will admit I was quite concerned. Until I spoke with your friend Mr. Ronald Weasley and he confirmed that you had made alternative plans for the summer, I had been worried that you may have been abducted. I was quite concerned for your welfare and several other individuals were brought in as a small search was begun to try and locate you and verify your safety. Mr. Weasley now assures me that you are somewhere safe, although he does not know where exactly you are._

_I had thought that we had an understanding as to just how important it is that you return to Privet Drive every summer to maintain the wards that protect you there thanks to your mother's sacrifice, but clearly I was wrong._

_I understand that you are not entirely happy there, but I do wish that you would have come to me before making such a rash decision. We are all very worried about you, and only want what is best for your overall well-being. There are dangers growing all around us and it is simply not safe for you to be without the protection of your mother's wards. If you return right away we can still salvage the situation and make sure that you can guarantee a place to stay that is safe, until you come of age. _

_I am disappointed, Harry, but I can see now that you quite desperately do not wish to return to your relatives home. I promise that I can guarantee your safety with them, and you will not have to remain with them for long. Two weeks is all that is necessary and then you can go stay with your friend, Ron. Molly Weasley has already offered her home to you._

_Please, Harry, wherever you are, it is not safe enough to guarantee complete protection from Voldemort or his followers. I insist that you tell me, right away, where you are, and I will send a team of trusted witches and wizards to come collect you and bring you somewhere safe so we can work through our disagreements on this issue._

_Time is of the essence, Harry. Please respond as soon as possible so that I know you are well and can send someone to collect you._

_Sincerely Yours,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Harry snorted loudly causing Tom to pause and look down expectantly.

"Bloody lying, deceitful old codger," Harry grumbled bitterly.

"What does the old fool have to say?"

"First off, he makes it sound like the wards at Privet Drive are still there and as long as I return soon, and stay with the fucking muggles for at least two weeks this summer, they'll be fine. He also mentions that I'm not safe from_ your followers _but doesn't make any mention of him knowing that you're back. How nice of him to be so open with his intel," Harry said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Even the Weasley kid's letters mentioned you being back."

"Did they now?" Tom replied with narrowed eyes.

"Yeah, apparently they eavesdropped on some private conversation between Dumbles and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and overheard Molly freaking out about you 'being back' and them wondering if you'd kidnapped me."

"Such impressive security," Tom sneered sarcastically, causing Harry to snicker.

Finally, Harry decided to get started on his responses and he allowed Tom to conjure him a chair that was placed diagonally from Tom's so that Harry had a space along one side of the desk. Using some spare parchment and a quill from Tom, Harry began to write his responses.

To Ron he thanked him for the information and told him not to worry about anything he may have let slip to Dumbledore since Harry had already assumed that it would happen. To Hermione, Harry said that what he had seen of the French countryside was beautiful but he hadn't yet been into any towns and had very little exposure to the country outside of the manor house he was staying in.

He also made a few friendly jokes about her relationship with Krum, gave her a few tips on hiding especially dark hickeys and healing bite marks, and told her that it didn't bother him at all if Krum's father was a member of the Dark Magic party. He said that the more he learned about different magical affinities from foreign points of view the more he came to realize that wizarding Britain had a very skewed view on magic that seemed extremely biased. He said that in Britain people vilified Dark as evil because of a few bad apples who were both Dark Wizards, and evil bastards. But that being a Dark Wizard did not necessarily make you evil, it was just a circumstantial connection, not a direct relation. It sounded like a logical enough argument that would probably both ease Hermione's fears as well as get her thinking more open-mindedly on the subject.

To Ginny he apologized for not telling her more and thanked her for her report on Dumbledore's visit. He told her he was safe and happy and thoroughly enjoying his first summer far, far, away from the Dursley's. He also told her that just because he was in France did not necessarily mean his mystery boyfriend was from Beauxbatons, but refused to give her any additional details on the subject, just to keep her guessing.

To the twins he mostly just commented on their joke invention enterprises and told them that if they ran low on finances in the next year that he would be willing to invest a bit more should the need arise.

Finally he got to the Minister's invitation. He thanked the man and graciously accepted the offer. He had Tom read over it to make sure it was good enough, and once it met his approval Harry moved on to the final letter – the response to Dumbledore.

_Dear Professor Dumbledore,_

_I apologize if I worried you but I'm afraid that I simply refuse to return to the Dursley's ever again. You say that it is the only place that I am truly safe; however, you and I fundamentally disagree on this point. Even if I am safe there from Death Eaters, I am not safe there from my uncle._

_I will not go back._

_Where I am now is extremely safe and has very powerful and very old wards that I have been assured are some of the most powerful available in the wizarding world. I am also with people who I trust to only have my best interests and welfare at heart. I am quite happy where I am and intend to stay here until the end of my summer holidays. Thank you for your concern, but I have no intention of going anywhere else. _

_See you in the fall._

_Sincerely, _

_Harry J. Potter_

Harry had Tom read over the letter before he sealed it into an envelope and added it to his pile. He called Mixey to him then and had her take all of the letters back to the French post office to have them mailed out. He managed to get all of this finished up just in time for the next meeting. Tom returned to his Voldemort appearance and the two left the study to make their way down to the conference room.

– –

Albus Dumbledore was legitimately concerned. The subject of more than a decade and a half worth of effort was apparently _rebelling against him_, and he was finding himself entirely helpless to do anything about it at the moment. As the previous school year had worn on he had slowly begun to second guess his decision to allow, and even _encourage_, Harry Potter's participation in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He knew, after Trelawney made that prophecy about Peter Pettigrew the previous spring, and then after the Death Eater attack on the World Cup that fall, that something big was coming. Voldemort was moving again, and when Harry Potter's name came out of the cup he _knew_ that it was had to be connected. Lord Voldemort would not sit by idly without some plan involving the young Harry Potter who was supposedly prophesized to be his vanquisher.

Whatever Voldemort plans were concerning Harry and the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Dumbledore was sure that it would inevitably bring the two of them together in some sort of direct conflict, and that was fundamentally the end-goal. If the true prophecy was to be believed, the bond that connected Harry and Voldemort mandated that for either of them to die, it had to be at the hands of the other.

If Dumbledore's suspicions were correct, Voldemort had intended to guarantee his immortality that fateful Halloween night by committing one of the most atrocious and unforgivable of Dark Magic's – he had intended to create a _horcrux_, and use the murder of the infant Harry Potter as the catalyst. Dumbledore suspected that it had actually succeeded, even though Voldemort likely believed it failed, and it was the piece of Voldemort's soul that had come to accidentally reside inside Harry Potter, that had kept the Dark Lord from truly dying that night. It also explained why only the two, trying to kill each other, would succeed in either's death. Voldemort in his attempt to 'kill' Harry, would actually destroy the piece of his soul that resided within the boy, thus weakening him, and then Harry would have to kill Voldemort. It made perfect sense... to _Dumbledore,_ anyway. Although it didn't entirely explain why the prophecy suggested that _Harry_ couldn't die...

However things had become a bit more complicated at the end of Harry's second year, with the discovery of Tom Riddle's diary. Dumbledore had been unsure at first, but after some more research and testing, Dumbledore had in fact confirmed that the diary had once been a horcrux.

While the diary had proven that Voldemort was able and had previously accomplished the creation of a horcrux, confirming Dumbledore's suspicions that this truly was Voldemort's chosen method of immortality, it brought forth some legitimate concerns.

The diary horcrux that he had created, had been made when he was still a student at Hogwarts, meaning it was created many, many _decades_ earlier, thus showing that Voldemort had been able to create a horcrux long before his assault on the Potters. The biggest concern, however, was the nature of the horcrux itself. It was obvious that Voldemort had created it with the intent of it getting back into the school – into the hands of a student – to reopen the Chamber. This would leave the diary horcrux in a precarious position. He was risking it's destruction, which went directly against the intention of a horcrux. When one created a horcrux, they kept it safe. Kept it _hidden._ They did not risk it getting loose into the hands of children where it could be destroyed.

If Voldemort was willing to risk _that_ horcrux, it suggested that he had another that performed the role of safe-guarding his immortality. And this was all over fifty years ago. If he had at least two horcruxes back when he was still a student at Hogwarts, and he inadvertently made another in Harry Potter, it suggested that there were _others_.

It was possible that there was more than just Harry Potter standing in the way of Voldemort's demise, which could cause some serious complications for Dumbledore's plans, if it were true.

Dumbledore had begun to theorize in recent years that if Harry and Voldemort came head to head and both came out alive, _again_, that it would confirm that there really was still more to it than the horcrux in Harry, and the now destroyed diary. That there were more horcruxes keeping Voldemort alive. And while Voldemort was alive, Harry was alive. It wasn't until Harry was the only horcrux left that they could both be killed.

Still, back to the matter presently at hand. At the start of the school year, Harry Potter being in the tournament had seemed necessary in order to guarantee that much-needed next round between the two prophesized adversaries. Either to finally bring about Voldemort's demise, or to at least prove whether or not there were more horcruxes. Something had apparently gone wrong with those plans because now Voldemort was back, and Harry had gone the entire school year without once encountering the man.

According to Severus' report, the plan that Voldemort had regarding Harry and the Tournament, had been tossed aside at some point during the school year. Dumbledore wished desperately that he understood specifically what plans had been made and discarded and what plans had been made in their stead. He was convinced that, no matter what, Voldemort would not give up on his quest to remove the threat that Harry's continued existence posed to him and his return. He _would_ be going after Harry again. It was inevitable. But what was he planning?

Severus was being kept mostly in the dark, and it was proving most inconvenient.

So not only had Harry Potter's participation in the tournament not resulted in a confrontation between he and Lord Voldemort, it had also had the exceedingly unfortunate effect of making the boy more powerful, independent, and confident. The solitude that resulted from his exile from his friends early on in the year had somehow led to the boy becoming more studious and he apparently became quite a bookworm. The pressure of competing in a deadly tournament had made him focus on his defense skills, and his performance in classes had dramatically improved. So much, in fact, that now Minerva was insisting that Harry be made a prefect for Gryffindor next year! Dumbledore still wasn't sure how he should handle _that_ request. He didn't want to give the boy any more freedom or responsibilities than necessary, but Minerva was being quite insistent.

Dumbledore had hoped that things would smooth out once Harry had re-established his friendship with the two Gryffindors, but his hopes had not been fulfilled. The boy had continued to isolate himself and study. Harry wasn't supposed to become any sort of defense prodigy. He needed Voldemort to be the one to shoot the first killing curse at Harry, not the other way around. The soul piece in Harry had to die first... It wasn't a real concern though. No matter how much Harry practiced, he would never win a duel against Voldemort.

Over the course of the school year, he had tried to keep an eye on his prized weapon, but he honestly had so many other responsibilities to attend to on a daily basis that there was only so much he could do regarding Harry. Plus his plan had been to remain a bit distant from young Harry Potter for some time longer. Now he wondered if, perhaps, that had been another mistake.

While he had, had mild concerns throughout of the school year, he hadn't given them a lot of weight. He had felt secure in his belief that his plans were proceeding basically as expected and that things were still well within his control. When the Granger girl had gone to Minerva expressing concern over Harry's summer living arrangements, Dumbledore had been a bit put out, but had managed to get things back in control. At least, he had thought so.

Minerva had made quite a fuss, but it wasn't anything he couldn't perform damage control and correct. He was good at that.

The fact that Harry had actually confided in his friends about his living environment had been a bit unexpected, and slightly concerning since it went outside of Dumbledore's expected behavior of the boy, but again, he had still felt secure in the belief that he had things under control. He had a better understanding of human nature than most and had always been skilled at predicting people's reactions in any number of different scenarios.

Growing up with the Dursley's had made Harry submissive to authority, desperate for positive reinforcement, and easily susceptible to a good 'guilt trip'. He knew that Harry _hated_ to disappoint people. He was always searching for others' approval, and wanted to prove himself worthy of his supposed fame, even if he didn't want said fame in the first place. Dumbledore was confident that Harry still saw him as his own personal savior, and looked up to him with all the awe and respect that a young Gryffindor should.

And then the last day of term had arrived, the students had boarded the Hogwarts Express to return home for their summer holidays, and he had retired to his office to relax a bit before gathering up some papers in preparation for gathering the Order back together and continuing his search for information that could lead him to Lord Voldemort's horcruxes.

When the alarms had sounded, signaling that the wards around Privet Drive had collapsed he had a moment of stunned confusion and disbelief, followed by a powerful surge of cautious hope. There were not many things that could cause those wards tosuddenly fall from full power. It had not yet been a full year since Harry had set foot in the house, so it wasn't possible for them to have fallen apart because of a lack of his presence in the house; besides that would happen gradually, not all at once.

Chances were slim that Harry would have mentally and emotionally _abandoned_ the dwelling either, since he really had no alternative home to call his own. While he may have considered Hogwarts Castle his 'home', it wasn't a dwelling that was _his_, nor was it a place that he could stay at all year round. He still _needed_ the Dursley's home, and as long as part of him relied on it as his home during the holidays, the wards would not fall.

No, for them to instantly fall like this, he would have had to _die!_ If Harry had died, and the prophecy was to be believed, then so had Voldemort! There was a brief period of time where Dumbledore wondered if maybe Lord Voldemort's revised plans that he had mentioned during the Death Eater meeting that Severus had attended, was to intercept Harry somewhere between the train and Privet Drive.

Dumbledore had jumped into action, apparating to Privet Drive to investigate.

However when he got there, he learned that the Dursley's had never even gone to collect Harry at King's Cross because they had been under the impression that he was going to be spending the holiday with an unnamed friend. This was curious, but it was still possible that a Death Eater had forged and spelled a letter to keep them away, leaving Harry exposed and alone at Kings Cross, so he could have been abducted at that point and taken to Lord Voldemort. After all, Harry _had promised_ that he was going to return to his relatives that summer.

The theory of Death Eaters intervening with Harry's pick-up from King's Cross had continued in Dumbledore's mind until he visited the Weasley's and spoke with their son Ronald. It was at _that_ point that Dumbledore felt true dread fill his veins like ice.

He hadn't felt it was really necessary to intrude upon the mind of Miss Granger during his meeting with her a month prior, but he would not make that mistake this time. Reading the boy's cluttered mind had been effortless, and had only left him even more upset than before.

The more he learned, the more sure he was that Harry had _not_ been abducted. Harry had _run away, _and he had been planning to do so for quite some time. He had clearly set his plans in motion long before he even made his promise to Dumbledore that he would return to the Dursley's. Harry had flat out lied to him, and had felt justified in doing it. At some point, Harry had lost faith in Dumbledore and the old headmaster hadn't even realized it. Harry no longer trusted him, and it seemed his treatment and forced return to the Dursley's was the primary source of that distrust. He hadn't expected Harry to come to understand and rebel against his living situation so soon. When had the boy become so independent? Damn that tournament!

The most concerning detail that he had siphoned from the young Weasley's mind was the fact that Harry had somehow learned what Legilimency and Occlumency were, and he knew that both Severus and Dumbledore were capable of using them. The children had seemed far more focused on the fact that Severus was able to read their minds and they hadn't seemed to put any worries towards Dumbledore himself doing it, but the fact that Harry was apparently teaching himself Occlumency was concerning.

He doubted that Harry could get very far with it on his own, but still, if he progressed even a small amount, he would be able to at least detect a mental intrusion. This could complicate Dumbledore's efforts, considerably.

What was truly a mystery though was how Harry would have even heard of those two branches of magic, or how he would have learned that both he and Severus were practicing Legilimense. The only theory that Dumbledore could come up with was that perhaps Alastor had let it slip. Harry had been spending quite a lot of time with the Defense teacher that year. Alastor had sort of taken the boy under his wing – taking it as his own personal duty to try and help make sure the boy was prepared for the dangers of the tasks. That, perhaps, was another mistake. Perhaps he should have tried harder to persuade Alastor to keep his distance from Harry. He would have to send the man an owl, asking him if he had told Harry about the mind arts at some point.

Dumbledore could easily imagine it coming up. According to Ronald's memories, Harry had somehow become aware that Severus was a former Death Eater. If Harry had mentioned this discovery to his Defense professor, Alastor would have no doubt confirmed it and warned Harry further. Alastor _never_ trusted Severus. Why the man had felt it was necessary to inform Harry that Dumbledore himself was also a Legilimense, he could only imagine.

Perhaps when young Harry returned to school in the fall Dumbledore would have to push forward his plans a bit. He hadn't intended to make his move so early, but circumstances might dictate the need to move up his plans. He needed to get the boy back under his control, and he needed to reform some bonds of _trust_. If Harry did not trust him, it would be disastrous. And he had to make sure that Harry never directly blamed _him_ for his need to live with the Dursley's. That blame had to remain with Lord Voldemort! Dumbledore realized that the best way to regain the boy's trust would be to show Harry that he trusted him in return. Perhaps it was time to inform the boy of his destiny...

But that would come in the fall. The summer was his current pressing concern, and at the moment, Harry was missing and nothing Dumbledore did in an attempt to locate him was working. What sorts of wards was the boy behind anyway? The strength of those wards was almost cause for concern since there were only so many people alive capable of making wards strong enough to block the more advanced spells he was using, and one of those people was Voldemort, himself. But Dumbledore knew that was a ridiculous concern.

If Dumbledore had succeeded in nothing else, he had at least succeeded in instilling a deep hatred for Voldemort in the young Potter heir. Voldemort had murdered Harry's parents. Their death had resulted in Harry having to be left with his cruel aunt and uncle. Voldemort was an evil, bigoted, mass-murdering psychopath. All of these fundamental beliefs had been ground into Harry since the day he set foot back in the wizarding world and Dumbledore was secure in the knowledge that those beliefs had taken a firm hold in the boy's mind. He had implanted and strengthened them himself numerous times over the years through his legilimency intrusions.

Harry would rather _die_ than join forces with the Dark Lord. No... Harry wasn't with Voldemort. That idea was just ludicrous. But still, the question remained – where was he?

Ronald didn't seem to know any really useful details that could lead to the Boy-Who-Lived's location. From the young Weasley's mind, it looked like Miss Granger might know more, but Dumbledore had found tracking her down annoyingly difficult. She and her family were apparently on holiday in Italy and Greece for the first month of summer holidays, so Dumbledore was forced to wait until she and her family returned.

He hoped that by the end of July he would have a new Order headquarters acquired and ready for habitation. He expected that he could expect the Weasley family to spend a great deal of time there. Perhaps they could extend an invitation to Miss Granger and he could gain access to her there.

Of course, hopefully he would have managed to locate Harry by then anyway.

No matter what, however, he knew he needed to rework his plans. Things had managed to begin slipping beyond his control at some point and he hadn't really even noticed. He needed to tighten his grip and reestablish things before they slipped any further away.

He needed to find Harry Potter.

– –


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary: Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta Pass by tannne.

AN: This one is longer (24 pages) to make up for the fact that the last chapter was shorter. (16 pages)

I'm also posting it a day early as thanks for the insane number of reviews you all have given this story already. You're all awesome. Thanks you. :)

Chapter 4

Days began to pass quickly for Harry at Riddle Manor. The morning after the day Mixey brought him his first batch of letters, which was July 10th, the Daily Prophet announced that retired Auror, Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, was found dead in his home from a suspected heart attack. Harry knew that the last few weeks of the man's life were spent in a catatonic healing coma to try to remove all the signs that he had suffered from torture and malnourishment for the greater part of the last year. Then he was fed a potion that Snape brewed that recreated the effects of a severely ailing heart. Once the potion was entirely out of his system, he was taken to his own house and Barty had delivered the finishing spell that ended the poor sod's miserable life.

The whole thing was played out to a precise degree to make everything look as authentic as possible. Even the most advanced of magical autopsies would confirm the story that the man had died naturally, and remove any doubt that foul play could have been involved in the man's death. It was imperative that everyone honestly believed that Moody really had died of natural causes. If it was ever discovered that the Moody who had been teaching at Hogwarts wasn't really Moody, it could cause a lot of potential problems.

Harry had started attending all of the meetings with Tom. The day after the letters arrived, he had stayed in the library for a portion of the early morning meeting but halfway through, found himself so antsy and twitchy that he wasn't getting anything accomplished. He also found that he was experiencing a sort of _echo_ of his anxiety, which really only made it harder to ignore, but couldn't fathom what could be the reasoning behind that. And then Mixey had appeared in his room, saying that Master had insisted that Master Evan come to the meeting in the conference room. Harry had _jumped_ out of his seat and bolted down the stairs. He was barely able to get a hold of himself in time to enter the conference room with some dignity. He hadn't even realized, until then, that the biggest cause of his anxiousness had been his distance from Tom. But once he was in the room with the Dark Lord, he suddenly found his nerves relaxed and calm again.

Afterwards the two had done a little experimenting with the occurrence, at Tom's insistence. He had told Harry that he refused to be controlled by whatever this was without understanding it. They had tried staying at opposite ends of the manor for prolonged periods of time to see just how long they could be away from each before it became distracting.

It didn't take long.

In fact, they found that the longer they tried to remain separate from each other, the more powerful the desire to come together _intimately_ afterwards was. The evening of the 11th, Tom had stayed in his potions lab in the basement while Harry stayed at his desk in their bedroom on the 3rd floor, for three solid hours because of Tom's stubborn insistence, and him having two of the house elves stay outside of the bedroom door to make sure Harry didn't go racing out of it.

In the end, it had been _Tom_ who had gone up to the third floor where he promptly dismissed the elves and practically attacked Harry against the wall - which Harry had more than enthusiastically welcomed. Tom had ended up bending Harry over his desk, grabbed a fierce hold on Harry's hair, arching him back, while he gripped hold of Harry's hip with his other hand. He had then spent nearly a half hour thrusting into the extraordinarily eager, responsive, and surprisingly vocal, younger wizard.

It had been rough and unexpected, but it had been exactly what Harry had wanted. Afterwards Tom had taken him to the bed and caressed him with surprising gentleness, and Harry could tell the man was worried that he'd gone too far, or that he had hurt him. Harry fell asleep, wrapped around Tom while the elder wizard slowly carded his fingers through Harry's hair.

Harry had woken up late that night around 3am to find a tightness in his chest and no one beside him in bed. He had climbed out of bed and followed Tom's magic to the library where he found the older wizard sitting on the floor, surrounded by a pile of books.

"Tom? What are you doing?" Harry had asked as he had walked, bare-footed, into the dim, candle-lit library.

"I'm trying to determine what exactly is going on with us," Tom had said, not looking up from his book.

"Oh... okay. Can I help?" Harry said as he came over and gingerly sat down, cross-legged on the floor beside the Dark Lord. Tom paused and gave Harry a slightly concerned sidelong glance at Harry's wince as he settled onto the floor, but Harry gave him a reassuring smile and reached his hand out, silently asking for a book. Tom sighed and simply handed him one of the books from the pile before resuming his own reading.

Harry had quickly cracked the book open and began to skim through the table of contents for anything that sounded like it would be relevant.

As he worked, Tom would mark certain pages and make notations to a small pile of parchment as he went, and whenever Harry came across something that looked important, he would point it out and hand the book over. It was about half-past five o'clock in the morning before Tom closed the book he was reading, sighed and focused his attention on Harry. Harry closed his own book and waited.

"From what I have read, and what I have personally experienced of the bond that you and I seem to be forming, I would hypothesize that this... _need_ to connect with each other, physically, will only grow until the bond has fully formed. It appears that our... _intimacy _kick-started things and it is progressing faster now than before. The things I've read all seem to agree that each time we come together in such a way will progress the bond further. That is why we are drawn to do so. The bond is trying to complete itself, and in order for that to happen we have to continue to –"

"Have a lot of sex?" Harry finished.

"Yes."

"And after the bond is complete, this um... discomfort that we feel when we're apart will go away?"

"Correct."

"Oh... well, that's a relief. Um... how long is it supposed to take? To complete the bond, I mean."

"It depends on the frequency with which we progress the bond, but I would wager that if we continue on as we have these last couple days it will complete within the month."

Harry grinned up at Tom, who returned the smirk, slyly, causing Harry's grin to widen. "Well, that's good. Going back to Hogwarts in the fall would be exceedingly difficult if this didn't settle down."

"Yes, it would," Tom added dryly.

Harry looked thoughtful for a second before an impish grin spread across his lips and he looked up at Tom through his eyelashes. "Want to um... go back to the bedroom and speed up this whole bond completing thing, right now?"

Tom snorted and rolled his eyes before the corner of his lips turned up slightly, despite himself, and he found himself smirking lecherously down at the younger wizard who only smirked back and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Tom actually _laughed_ at him and shook his head before standing to his feet and dragging Harry back upstairs to their bedroom.

An hour later, while the two were lying in bed with nothing but moonlight to bring a dim glow to the room, Tom pressed his lips to Harry's temple lovingly and whispered quietly to the younger wizard.

"It is absolutely ridiculous what you do to me... The way you make me act when I'm around you. It's nearly obscene."

Harry chuckled as he curled into Tom's side and wrapped his arm tightly around the older wizard's chest.

"I should hate this, you know," Tom said into the quiet. "I shouldn't allow this. The way our magic is pulling us together. The way I lose control around you. It should infuriate me."

"I know."

"It's dangerous. It jeopardizes everything. Allowing myself to become so attached to someone. To... _care_ about someone. Such feelings only introduce weakness. They make a person vulnerable."

"I know."

"Right when I'm finally beginning to get back on track. When I'm finally beginning to regain my footing and start working towards my task again... I risk everything over my own selfish desires..." Tom said with a sigh.

Harry was quiet for a long moment. His thoughts and emotions were turbulent and he could tell that Tom's were just as much of a mess as his own, though the Dark Lord was hiding it well. He always did.

"I don't want to be a weakness," Harry whispered quietly.

Tom sighed heavily and tightened the grip of his one arm that had been wrapped loosely around Harry's shoulders and rested under his neck.

"You... you aren't, Harry. Not really. I... perhaps you actually make me stronger... in some ways you do. Having you here... yes, you can be a distraction at times, but I think I need that. To maintain perspective and to keep from becoming obsessive over the wrong things. You also help me clear my mind and think more calmly. I never..." Tom paused and huffed in annoyance. "Loneliness was always a reality for me. I think I became so accustomed to the feeling that I forgot what anything else could feel like. But you've given that to me. You've taught me what it's like to actually give a damn about an individual person. I'm not sure I've ever honestly _cared_ about anyone before. I've had people who were more useful to me than others; people who were more loyal than others; people who I had a greater investment of time and resources in than others, but that's not the same... I don't think I even realized how..." his words died off, finally cut off by a frustrated little growl.

"I wanted power," Tom continued after a brief pause. "I wanted respect. I also wanted to restore the glory of Magic and fix our rotting, festering wizarding society, and cleanse it from its contamination from the muggles' culture. When I was presented with the opportunity to do so... I took it. It was what I wanted, and it still is. It's my responsibility, and I do not regret a thing. But... I've told you before, Harry; I have never been much one for denying myself things I want. And I want you. I... I want _this..._ What you do to me... the things I feel around you... Ugh... I'm rambling," Tom huffed in annoyance. "I _don't ramble_."

Harry chuckled weakly and held on tighter.

"I can't tell you how much it means to me..." Harry began to whisper after a long silent moment passed. "How much it means to me that you trust me. That you actually _want me."_ Harry paused for a moment before taking a deep breath. "Tom?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"I love you."

The silence that filled the room was thick as butter and Harry could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Part of him was terrified that he would in some way be rejected after his confession, and yet another, strangely confident part of him knew he wouldn't be.

"You don't have to say anything back," Harry whispered quietly. "I never expected you to. You've already said more than I would have ever expected. I don't want anything back. I just want you to know it. Because it's true."

Harry felt Tom's chest rise and fall slowly with a long, heavy breath before he spoke. "I know."

– –

The next day was Wednesday, July 12th, and it was also the day he was supposed to meet the Minister for Magic for tea. As soon as Harry had sent his response back to the Minister several days earlier, Tom had rescheduled any meetings that had originally been planned for this day, so the two had no responsibilities outside of their planned trip to Diagon Alley.

The morning started as any other, only with a slightly later than usual rise, thanks to their late night, followed by about forty-five minutes spent in the 'gym'. Then a shower – which they took together for the first time, and ended up lasting longer than two separate showers would have thanks for some _distractions_ – and then a late breakfast, or an early lunch – depending on how you looked at it – served by the house elves.

After 'brunch' Tom led Harry up to the study and pulled a small box out from a drawer in his desk. Inside were two identical necklaces on long, delicate, silver chains, with small pendants hanging on the ends. The pendants had a flat, diamond-shaped, sterling silver backing and three different colored gems mounted onto its face. One looked like an opal, one was a pale green gem that Harry thought looked like peridot, and the third was a tiger's eye stone.

In addition to the two necklaces, Harry saw a ring that looked an awful lot like the glamor ring he was wearing on his left index finger at that very moment. Tom set the box on the desk and took out one of the necklaces and handed it to Harry. As Harry took it, Tom took out the other and put it around his own neck.

"These amulets will prevent any tracking charms from locking onto either of us while we are outside the protection of the wards. The amulets can protect against the strongest tracking spells the light and neutral magic's have to offer, and against almost all of the dark locator spells as well. Because they are so powerful, they can only be used for a certain amount of time before their own power reserves are drained and they must be recharged. The amulets can hold a ten hour charge, after that it is necessary to remove it and let it sit, undisturbed, in a dark place for about twenty-four hours before it can be used again. They recharge automatically though. There are spells, of course, that supposedly make you untrackable, but those spells are only effective against _some_ tracking spells, and cause a drain on your own magic while active. This pendant negates that flaw."

Harry looked at it reverently for a moment before quickly slipping it on over his head.

Tom then removed the ring from the box and held it in his own hand. "This one is mine. It is very much like your own, although I added a second memory slot to it so that it can remember two different sets of glamors. I haven't actually bothered to make use of it before now. During my previous excursions out into the world, I simply cast some glamors over myself, since what I did was minimal enough that I saw no need in something as extravagant as this. The changes I've made to my appearance during those excursions have always been minimal. In fact, all I've done is this –" Tom said as he paused and performed a quick wave of his wand over himself.

At first Harry didn't think that anything had changed at all until he looked up into Tom's eyes and did a brief double-take. Tom's eyes were _brown_, which, while being a perfectly normal eye color, was so _foreign_ on Tom's face that it seemed almost unnatural.

"Not exactly a significant change," Tom said with a smirk. "But I have put this alteration as well as a few other minor changes into one of the ring's memory slots." Tom paused to cast a _finite_, canceling the glamors he had just cast, temporarily returning his eyes to their normal ruby red before he made a show of sliding the ring onto his left index finger. He rubbed his finger over the stone and Harry felt a small hum of magic pulse from the ring for a moment before Tom's appearance shimmered and shifted again.

Harry blinked, slightly surprised by the changes. Once again, Tom's eyes were brown, but his face was also slightly softer and thinner with youth. He looked a few years younger now – probably somewhere around twenty-to-twenty-five – and Harry couldn't help but wonder _why_ Tom would want to look _younger_.

"I will use this form in public when you are in your Evan Harris form," Tom said. "Obviously, _Harry Potter_ can never be seen with any version of _me_."

"Obviously," Harry agreed.

"But for when you go out in public as _Harry Potter_, I will use _this_ form instead," Tom said as he rubbed his finger over the ring again and Harry saw the man's appearance shimmer and melt as it transitioned to the other glamor set.

This one was quite a bit different, and yet there were some small features that were the same. Tom still had his nose and chin, but his lips were fuller, his jaw wasn't quite a strong, and his cheeks were rounder – not the crisp pointed, high cheekbones Harry was used to. Tom's eyes were also a pale blue and his hair was a light-brownish color with a touch of red. Sort of the color of old bronze. Instead of Tom's usual style of having it sort of slicked back and exposing his forehead, it was short, slightly wavy, and neatly styled. It was closer to how he'd seen the memory of young Tom Riddle's hair styled back in the chamber during his second year.

This version of Tom's glamor was also clearly younger. He looked very close in age to Harry, actually. Probably seventeen. Harry could actually pass for seventeen if he tidied up his hair and wore fine robes, even though he was only just about to come up on fifteen, so the physical age between the two of them was a close match.

"In this form I shall go by Nicodemus Tomaras," Tom said then.

Harry blinked. "Um. Okay. Nicodemus. Can I call you Nick, as like... a nickname?"

Tom rolled his pale blue eyes, but grinned slightly. "Yes, Harry, _Nick_ is fine."

"Okay, good. So... Nicodemus Tomaras. That's, what...?"

"It's Greek."

"Ah... Greek," Harry nodded his head, but still had that blank look to him. "Does it mean anything?"

A small secret smirk curled up on Tom's lips. "Nicodemus _may _mean 'Conqueror of the people'."

Harry grinned and chuckled. "Ah. I see. Seems fitting enough. And Tomaras?"

"A common Greek surname," Tom shrugged dismissively.

"So why Greek?"

"Records of magical family lines in Greece go back so far, and are so convoluted, that it's nearly impossible to find anything without months and months of searching, and even then, it is unlikely that a person will find much. If anyone goes digging around, trying to identify the family tree of Nicodemus Tomaras, they will find their work exceedingly difficult. Tomaras is also a very common pureblood family name in Greece, so there are far too many branches of the various trees to be able to prove or disprove my claim to the name."

"Ah, I see. Well that's good then, I guess."

Another beat of silence passed between them before Tom changed the subject. "So does this appearance suit your tastes?"

Harry blinked, slightly surprised by being asked. "Er... Yeah, it's fine. But it's your glamor. It's really up to you if you like it or not."

"I will _only _ever use this appearance when I am with 'Harry Potter' in a public setting of some sort. This mystery boyfriend of yours has to exist somewhere, after all." Tom smirked and Harry felt himself blush. "And seeing as how this persona will likely become known at some point as Harry Potter's 'boyfriend', I would want you to actually approve of it."

"Oh... wow. Er, yeah, I approve. It's... it's nice. I like the real you better, of course, but this is good. Hair color is interesting. Wait, so are you going to be seen with me today in Diagon Alley?" Harry asked before another thought suddenly dawned on him and he grinned widely. "I could introduce you to the Minister! Introducing the Dark Lord to the Minister of Magic! Oh Merlin, it would be hilarious if he invited you to stay for tea!"

"That is a rather amusing thought, isn't it?" Tom said smirking. "It is my intention that the majority of our visit to London today will be in our primary glamors, me as _myself_, mostly, and you as Evan Harris. I have several shops in Knockturn Alley I intend to visit, for example, and it just wouldn't be wise for Harry Potter to be seen in that particular neighborhood."

Harry nodded.

"However, I thought that we could make a brief public appearance shortly before your visit with the Minister as 'Harry Potter' and 'Nicodemus Tomaras'."

Harry grinned. "Alright," he agreed quickly suddenly feeling even more excited about the day than he had before.

The two spent some time then going over a made-up history of Nicodemus Tomaras and how the two of them had supposedly met. The story went that Nicodemus had grown up, living with a close friend of his mother's and had been home schooled by her. This last year she had died and he had moved to Hogsmeade to finish up his studying and prepare for his NEWT exams, which he had taken at the Ministry in the spring. He had hit his 17th birthday that year in early January, and at that point he was finally able to claim his inheritance from his parent's death. But until that point, he had needed additional money to support himself so he had taken on a part-time job in Hogsmeade.

The story would go that while he was living and working in Hogsmeade, he and Harry had met. Tom had apparently been working on this story for a while, and during the last week of term had actually gone into Hogsmeade under disguise, and modified a few memories to corroborate some necessary details.

First and foremost, he had modified the memories of an old witch who owned a small cottage towards the outskirts of town that had actually been empty for several years. She now believed that during the last 10 months, she had rented it out to a nice, quiet young man named Nicodemus.

The next memory modification that he had made was to the owner and operator of Honeyduke's. The man now believed that he had hired an evening stock boy to help him sort through his inventory, and stock the shelves. The employee – Nicodemus – had never worked counter and rarely worked when the store was actually open; only really interacting regularly with the owner, Mr. Honeyduke, himself.

The boy, Nicodemus, had been nice, quiet, efficient, and performed his tasks very well. He had spoken with Mr. Honeyduke only lightly, as the two were barely casual acquaintances, but had told the man enough that he could give a vague back story to anyone who might come by and ask questions.

As one final step, he had had one of his Death Eaters who worked in the magical records department place in some forged documents, and then another Death Eater who worked in a department that was across the hall from the department of magical education slip in and plant some forged OWL and NEWT test results for Nicodemus Tomaras.

With these corroborating modifications in place, the story that Harry would use now was that he had been sneaking out of the castle early in the year – after the whole debacle of his name coming out of the goblet of fire – in an attempt to get away from the scrutiny of the school. He had used the secret passage that came out to the cellar of Honeyduke's and had come across Nicodemus there.

Over the course of the year, the two had secretly met often, and sent owls back and forth. Towards the end of the year, their relationship had grown more romantic and Nicodemus had invited Harry to come stay in his family's old manor house that he had only recently rediscovered as a part of his inheritance. Harry had agreed to stay with him over the summer, so that he could escape his horrible relatives.

Nicodemus was an orphan; his parents having died when he was quite young. The fictional family he heralded from, however, was a very old family, and held a lordship in some foreign land. Nicodemus, however, could not inherit any of the money, properties, or titles until he came of age – which had only just happened his last winter – as per the family's traditions.

By the time they were done discussing and going over all of this, it was actually about 2:30pm, thanks primarily to their having slept in so late. Fortunately this wasn't actually a problem because of Tom's time-turner.

The pair made their way down to the first floor and into the time-turner room. Tom opened one box, pulled out the small hour-glass shaped object, stretched the automatically extending chain necklace around both of their necks and gave it 3 turns, sending the pair back to 11:30am. He placed the time-turner back into the second box and then side-along apparated the pair of them to one of Diagon Alley's apparition zones.

They both had their anti-tracking pendants and their glamor rings on. Harry had been keyed into Tom's ring, so he still saw the man's true appearance while the rest of the world saw the first glamor set that featured a slightly younger Tom Riddle with brown eyes. Harry, of course, was in his Evan Harris appearance that made him look about 20, with long blond hair tied back into a loose, low ponytail, and light blue eyes.

Tom quickly took the lead and the pair of them made their way directly towards Knockturn Alley. Their first stop was a rather sizable book store that had a twisted old staircase leading up to a loft with even _more_ books in it. The books were almost all old. Only a small section towards the front of the first floor actually had new books for sale while the rest of the store was obviously a second-hand book store. However the store obviously didn't discriminate on a books subject matter, and had a gloriously large selection of books on a wide variety of dark magic subjects.

The shop-keep eyed the two of them as they made their way into the shop, and tended to hover around them as they continued to browse. Harry was both intrigued and amused to observe Tom in this store. He tried to maintain his normal calm and proper, aloof persona, but his eyes would light up and he would dart his hand out and grab a book with considerable enthusiasm when he spotted something that caught his interest.

Harry had come to understand that if there was one thing that could get Tom excited that _didn't_ involve torture, or sex, it was new sources of knowledge. Harry watched the older wizard with a glowing amusement in his eyes and a smile on his lips. Tom would even get enthusiastic enough to call 'Evan' over and gush over having found some exceptionally rare tome that he'd been searching for for ages.

Harry quickly found himself getting sucked into the excitement and started collecting his own pile of books on various fascinating subjects.

The shopkeeper, who had never fully stopped hovering over them, seemed stunned when the two had easily produced enough money to pay for their purchases – which had amounted to quite a steep price in the end. Tom had pulled what _looked_ like a small draw-string pouch from his pocket and began to pull the mouth of it open wider and wider until they were able to slid even the largest books they had purchased inside it. It obviously had a space expansion charm inside it since when everything was tucked away, the pouch once again was small enough to slide inside Tom's pocket.

Next the pair had gone to Borgin and Burke's. It was odd being back in the store again after several years, and to be in the store as an actual customer, and not as some kid who accidentally managed to land in the store's floo and then snuck around trying to hide.

Harry realized now that Borgin and Burke's was basically a pawn shop for dark arts junk. And that's what _most_ of it was. Junk. But there were also some rare gems and Tom was quick to point out which items were actually worth anything, even if he had no interest in them.

Borgin hadn't paid them any attention when they first entered the store, nor while they were wandering around in the back half of the store. Tom was standing with his arms folded across his chest and an amused smirk on his face, looking towards the front of the store. Harry watched him curiously for a moment before speaking.

"What's up?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"Oh, nothing much. Just sort of... reminiscing, I suppose."

"Reminiscing?" Harry echoed in confusion.

"Mm... yes, I actually worked here for about a year."

Harry blinked back at Tom with an utterly stunned expression. Finally he choked past his shock. "What?"

Tom snickered. "You look like an idiot with that expression. Shut your mouth."

Harry's jaw snapped shut.

"It was 1945. I had just graduated that spring and came to work here directly after. Managed to procure several extremely valuable objects thanks to my brief employment here. One that was rightfully mine from the start, in fact. It will be amusing to see if dear old Borgin recognizes me."

"Wait, it's the _same guy?_" Harry asked, doing a double-take as he looked up at the oily old man standing at the counter cleaning some tarnished-looking statue.

"Oh yes. He's the same man who hired me. Borgin here is the original Borgin who founded the store in 1863 with his partner Caractacus Burke."

"1863! That would make him, what? More than a hundred and thirty years old! He doesn't look a hundred and thirty years old..."

"Do _I _look like I'm nearly seventy?" Tom asked with a pointed look and a raised eyebrow.

"Well, fine... point taken. But you're _you_."

"We are all _wizards_. Wizards live long lives. Much longer than _muggles_. Even squibs live longer lives than muggles because, while the magic in them is too weak to fully materialize, they still have dormant magical creature blood in their veins, extending their life beyond that of a simple non-magical human."

"Huh... fascinating." Harry said quietly before looking thoughtful. "Isn't it sort of risky being in that form around someone who could recognize you?"

"There is no risk in Borgin exposing me," Tom said dismissively.

Harry shrugged and accepted Tom's word, finding himself also curious as to whether or not the old shopkeeper would recognize Tom. His form did look younger at the moment thanks to the glamors. If Borgin knew Tom when he was seventeen he probably looked a lot then, like he did right at this moment.

The pair browsed for another few minutes when Harry came to a stop by the large cabinet that he had hidden inside back before his second year when he had accidentally landed in Borgin's floo.

"Hey, Tom?"

"Yes?"

"What do you know about this thing?"

"Hmm? Oh... that's a vanishing cabinet. They're made in pairs. If this one's counterpart is missing, it's basically worthless."

"What do they do if you have both?"

"You can travel between them. Open the door, step inside, close the door and then exit out the back. You'll then find yourself coming out of the counterpart no matter where it's located. Quite handy, actually, especially since they bypass almost all known wards. However the things are notoriously testy and break easily. If it breaks while you are inside, you can end up stuck between the two with no way out."

"Hm... Interesting. You know, I'd swear I've seen another one of these at some point, but I have no idea where I might have seen it."

Harry shrugged and the pair continued on. Tom came to a stop beside a display case and Harry could see his eyes were alight with excitement. Harry peered over his shoulder curiously to identify what Tom was so interested in and suddenly found his own eyes widen with surprised interest.

There was a book laying there with a snake on the cover and the title printed in slowly moving squiggly letters that seemed to slither in place. It was a parseltongue book. Harry had only ever seen any tomes written in the language of the naga, down in the chamber. From their discussions, he'd learned that even Tom had only ever found a couple since leaving the school.

"Borgin! I wish to purchase this book!" Tom said standing up straight and speaking in a commanding tone.

The old man jerked up and quickly looked over towards the dim section of the store they were standing in. He put his things down on the counter and made his way over towards them, wringing his hands together excitedly.

He didn't even bother to look up at them as he came over to the display case and asked which book it was that they wanted. Tom pointed with one of his long fingers and Borgin tapped his wand on the lock on the case, releasing whatever security measures he had on it and sliding it open. He pulled the book out and Tom instantly snatched it from his hands, looking at it with excited glee. Harry knew that look. That look meant '_Mine!'_ Harry almost snickered.

"It's not cheap," Borgin growled as he eyed the book cautiously. "Four hundred Galleons."

Tom scoffed. "That's obscene. I won't give you a Knut more than two hundred."

"That's a priceless book there. Rare that is."

Tom began to make his way towards the front counter and Borgin quickly followed. He made his way behind the counter where he finally raised his head and got a good look at the man before him. Harry watched closely, immensely curious if the man would recognize Tom and how he might react.

"Rare, I will concede, but four-hundred galleons is still an obscene price for a book you would be hard pressed to find anyone even capable of _reading_. I am not a _fool_ Borgin. I will not be swindled by you," Tom sneered, narrowing his eyes and glaring at the other man who was now staring at Tom with slowly dawning recognition. "I recall quite well how you operated your business in the past, and I imagine that your tactics have not changed much over the years. I would be willing to bet that whoever you bought this from didn't even realize what it was and likely received less than ten galleons for it."

"I..." Borgin began to speak but whatever he was going to say died in his throat and his jaw slowly dropped open. "T-tom? Tom Riddle?" he whispered in disbelief. "Is it really you? Dear Merlin, it's been... You... I heard... but no... if it were true you'd..."

As the man continued to stammer and ramble a small smirk began to curl up on Tom's thin lips.

"You're really alive!" Borgin finally whispered in stunned disbelief.

"Yes, I am very much _alive._ Thank you for your concern," Tom said with a condescending sneer. "Now, I believe we were discussing the price of _this book,"_ Tom said sharply, drawing Borgin's attention back to the book that was now sitting on the counter between them.

Borgin's eyes traveled over the cover of the book with dawning realization. His eyes darted up to Tom and then back down to the parseltongue book.

"Merlin's beard... it's really true... you're... you're _him_."

"It would be in your best interest, Mr. Borgin, to stay focused on the task." Tom hissed menacingly.

Borgin's eyes widened and his face went slack for a moment before he cleared his throat and began to fidget and fumble with things around the counter.

"Yes... yes. Of course. _For you_... ten galleons. Yes, that should do. I bought it for about that, if I recall correctly."

"I'm sure you did," Tom sneered, sarcastically as he pulled out a money pouch and quickly fished out the specified amount.

Borgin took the money hesitantly and it looked to Harry that there was an internal war waging in the man's mind. He was probably fighting his long-held business sense and desire to turn a profit _or at least break even_, versus his own sense of self-preservation that was probably telling him not to accept any money from the Dark Lord at all and just _give him the bloody book!_

A quick side-long glance at Tom showed his own amusement over the old man's clear discomfort.

"I-it's b-been an honor doing business wi-with you sir. T-to think that... that _you_ once worked in my shop. I wondered... for so many years, but... I..."

"It would be in your best interest to keep your _wondering_ to yourself," Tom said curtly and Borgin paled.

"Of course! You k-know how I always worked. Discretion. Never reveal anyone else's business. _Never. _I – I would _never_ tell a soul."

"Be sure that you _don't. _Or I may just have to pay you a far less cordial visit in the future."

Tom picked the book back up off the counter, turned on the spot and began to leave the shop. Harry smirked wickedly at the man before tipping his head in farewell and following Tom back out into the alley.

The more time that Harry spent in Knockturn Alley, the more he found the place both amusing and fascinating. He remembered how _creepy_ and _intimidating_ the place had felt when he had visited the week after having just turned twelve, and realized that ignorance and inexperience had played the larger role in that perception than the alley itself. That, and perhaps, he was more intimidating himself, now, and was fully confident that he could protect himself should the need arise.

They continued their journey through the Alley, passing one interesting shop after another.

They passed a dank, gray-stone building labeled 'Moribund's Funeral Parlor' that, according to Tom, didn't just deal with the dead, but also supplied body parts for wizarding folk who needed bits and pieces for various dark magic spells.

A bit further down the road, there was a brothel called 'The Horny Toad'. The name made Harry snicker. Beside it, they passed a store called Don Ask and Don Tell, but Harry had absolutely no idea what it might have sold since it was closed and the windows were completely dark.

At the end of the alley was a short, black, medium-sized office building labeled 'Dodge, E & Dodge, E. R, Attorneys at Law' that apparently housed a couple solicitors that were willing to represent shiftier clientele. Beside it was a building labeled 'Creatures of the Night', which seemed to be both a pub and an inn. Interestingly enough, the building had no windows.

After going around the cul du sac at the end of the alley, they retraced their steps, making their way back towards the juncture with Diagon Alley. Just underneath the entrance to Knockturn Alley was a store called 'Belladonna's Candles' that advertised 'Poisonous candles, suffocating incense, and other 'gifts for the dark witch or wizard who has everything.' And directly beside it was a shop that made Harry do a double-take.

"Love Potion #69?" He said, with both amusement and incredulousness as he read the store's sign.

Tom smirked beside him. "Want to go in?"

Harry's head whipped around so fast he was surprised he didn't get whiplash. "Are you joking?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Tom said with a single raised eyebrow and an obvious air of amusement in his expression.

"I'm really not sure..." Harry answered slowly as he turned and looked back at the shop. "What _exactly_ does it have? I mean... is that a shop that sells love potions or is it...?"

"Sex toys, pornography, that sort of thing," Tom said simply.

Harry nodded his head slowly. "Oh."

"Although I'm sure they also sell love potions," Tom added airily. He turned his attention back to Harry and that devilish smirk that sent flutters through Harry's gut spread across his face. "So are we going in, or not?"

"You're willing to go in _there_, with _me_, while you're in that form? I mean... Borgin recognized you, there's bound to be others who might. You're really willing to risk being seen with me in a sex shop?" Harry asked, incredulously.

"Honestly, I _am_ allowed a personal life. No one who would recognize me is suicidal enough to question me, or my choice of partners. And anyone who _is_ stupid enough to do it will simply suffer for their ignorance appropriately," Tom said with a simple dismissive gesture.

Harry gaped at Tom for a very long moment, both stunned and oddly touched by the proclamation. His gaping expression slowly shifted to a wide smile and he was filled with an intense desire to kiss the other man. His hands even twitched with the need to wrap his arms around Tom and pull him close.

Harry pulled in a long slow breath, trying to push past the powerful desire that he knew was being amplified by their still-forming bond and looked up into Tom's eyes only to see his sparkling eyes staring back with an echo of Harry's own desire.

The next thing Harry knew, he was being dragged into an alley between two buildings and was pressed up against the wall while Tom attacked his lips. Tom got a strong, firm grip on Harry's hips and hoisted him up slightly. Doing what felt natural, Harry instantly wrapped his legs around Tom's hips and moaned into Tom's mouth as their pelvises ground against each other.

Tom pulled his face back separating the two only from that point, as they remained locked together at the hips. The older wizard's face was alight with the most uncharacteristic mirth and he actually _laughed_, pulling Harry out of his hazy lust-filled state enough to stare at the Dark Lord with utter confusion.

Just the same, he couldn't help but smile back at the clearly amused man.

"What's so funny?" Harry asked, finally, unable to remain silent any longer.

"It's just so absurd what you do to me. The urges I have around you... and the fact that I _want _to act on them. It's just... ridiculous."

"But in a good way?" Harry asked, unsure.

Tom grinned and rolled his eyes dramatically, causing Harry to laugh. "Yes, Harry. A good way. Even though it shouldn't be."

Tom ground against Harry, causing the younger wizard to gasp in surprise and then moan slightly at the glorious pleasure the small action had caused.

The moan instantly shifted into a disappointed whimper, and Harry pouted as Tom pulled away and Harry was forced to slide down and then stand on his own two feet again.

"Come, pet. Let's go into the store," Tom said looking back over his shoulder and giving Harry a lecherous smirk.

Harry laughed at Tom's unusual antics, absolutely bewildered, but equally _thrilled_ by the man's oddly playful mood.

Love Potion #69 did not actually feature an awful lot of things geared towards two male wizards – well, there was porn of course. Mostly magazines with magically moving pictures, and a collection of books on tantric sex – but a significant portion of the store was actually filled with frilly and lacy corsets and lingerie for women. Then there was a bondage section with leather cuffs, red ball-gags, chains and whips that made Harry both embarrassed and surprisingly aroused. He tried to divert his gaze because he was honestly afraid to give Tom any ideas, and even more afraid that he might enjoy that stuff a bit too much for his own comfort at the moment. He _had_ only just lost his virginity quite recently, and didn't think he was at all ready to start experimenting with bondage.

Another small corner of the store was dedicated to a shocking array of sex toys. Harry had _never_ in his wildest dreams imagined that there could be such a wide variety of butt plugs and magical vibrators. Hell, he would admit that six months ago he probably wasn't really even aware that _butt plugs_ existed. Although, now that he had experienced, first-hand, what it felt like to be stimulated down there, he wasn't the least bit surprised by their existence.

He found himself blushing and stuttering in embarrassment most of the time they were in the store – of course Tom had found this all exceedingly amusing and had noted that he needed to work harder to break Harry of his shyness on the subject.

Harry couldn't help but wonder what Tom had purchased when Harry had been distracted by the section of the store dedicated to the love potions. The vials of _Amortentia_ had drawn him in by their strong scent that smelled, to Harry, almost exactly like Tom. Earthy musk, mixed with cinnamon. It had been at that point that he had noticed said older wizard standing by the check-out counter and putting a few things into his drawstring pouch while giving Harry one of those looks that sent flutters through his stomach.

The pair left the store laughing lightly, while Harry fought against a strong blush, and Harry couldn't help but feel utterly shocked and amazed that Tom was willing to _flirt_ with him in a public setting. Especially in his almost-true form. It had been Harry's understanding that Tom hadn't wanted to risk his Death Eaters – or anyone, really – seeing him in this form, or really becoming aware of his sexual preference, because he didn't want them to perceive any of it as a potential weakness. And yet, here he was, walking down Knockturn in his almost-true form, with his hand rested comfortably at the small of Harry's back, guiding him towards the exit of the alley.

It was confusing, but it was also touching and reassuring.

–

Shortly before 2:30, Tom led the pair of them down between two buildings and then behind them so that they wouldn't be seen. Tom quickly cast some charms to drive anyone nearby away from the pair, and some notice-me-not spells on each of them. Harry removed his ring, returning to his true appearance, and slid the ring into his pocket while Tom rubbed his finger over his ring, switching to his second set of glamors.

"Well, we've still got about a half-hour till my tea appointment with the Minister. Where to now?" Harry asked as Tom's appearance temporarily shifted to the bronze-haired, blue-eyed young man. Harry having been keyed into it kicked in a moment later and the illusion faded away from Harry's eyes revealing Tom's real appearance to only him.

"Well, we'll stick to Diagon Alley from this point on, obviously. I was thinking that perhaps we would visit Madam Malkin's and get you some more casual robes for around the manor."

Harry shrugged. "Sounds fine to me."

As soon as they were back on Diagon Alley and out in the open, Tom canceled the notice-me-not spells and slowly, people began to notice the presence of the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry's hair had grown long enough that his fringe would now hang down past his eyes if he did nothing with it. Presently, it was actually styled with some light gel, slicking it back the same way that Tom usually wore his hair around the manor, so it was completely exposing Harry's forehead.

It was a style that, in the past, Harry would have never worn in public, simply because he usually preferred to try and hide his damned scar from view and keep a low profile. Now, however, he was making no such attempt. Having it out there for the whole world to see only made him that much easier to recognize and as the pair walked down the street they drew quite a few stares, whispers, and not-really-very-subtle pointed fingers.

Harry was used to it though, and he paid it no attention. Tom seemed visibly amused.

"_The-Boy-Who-Lived_" Tom snickered quietly under his breath. "_Savior_ of the Wizarding World."

Harry snorted. "They're a bunch of damned fools," he whispered back making Tom chuckle.

"It could be argued that we _will_ save them," Tom said with a smirk.

Harry glanced over at his companion and smiled at the use of 'we'. "Yes. Save them from their own ignorance and idiotic mistakes."

"Quite true."

The two wizards spent about fifteen minutes picking out some robes for Harry. Neither of them were much for clothes shopping so they kept their trip efficient and quick. The assistant in Madam Malkin's shop was quite flustered to have _Harry Potter _there. She fawned and hovered over them and Harry would swear that after a few minutes of it, Tom's behavior became quite possessive, and he often caught the older wizard glaring menacingly at the girl. Harry found it entirely amusing.

Once done there, they began to slowly walk down the alley towards the tea house that Harry was supposed to meet the Minister at.

Harry slowed as his eyes caught a familiar individual standing off to the side of the alley, across from the tea house, trailing behind a tall, thin, woman with horse-faced features that reminded him mildly of his aunt Petunia. The man, however, was the one that Harry was watching.

"I think that guy was Rita Skeeter's photographer," Harry said as he tilted his head, trying to make sure that he was right. That was the moment the man chose to turn to the side, revealing a magical camera strung over his shoulder. Harry smirked. "Yup. Skeeter's photographer. I think his name was Bozo or something."

Tom scoffed. "_Bozo_? Seriously?"

Harry snickered. "I _think_ so. I remembered it because it was so ridiculous."

Bozo and the horse-faced woman were both loitering in front of the store across the street from the tea house and Harry wondered if they were around because the Minister was supposed to be here soon. Harry wondered if the Minister took tea here regularly so that press just naturally came by, or if they had been notified that Harry would be meeting with the man today.

"Hmm... well, anyway," Harry began as he let his eyes travel towards the tea house, "Are you going to come up with me so I can introduce you to him?"

"I'm thinking... not. Perhaps you can introduce me when I come by to meet up with you after the meeting is done. If you introduce me before hand it's likely that he would feel pressured into asking me to join the two of you for tea. It's best if it's only the two of you this visit. Perhaps I can sit in on tea at a later date."

"Are you expecting me to be meeting with the Minister more than just this once?" Harry asked, not having actually considered that possibility.

"I suspect he would like it, assuming that this meeting goes well, and I'm confident that you can make sure it does, in fact, go well. The man soaks up press, and lives for influential connections – he _is_ a politician, after all, _and_ a former Slytherin. Not only are you the Boy-Who-Lived, but you are also the Potter family heir. I'm sure Fudge is more than aware just how much money you have waiting for you upon the arrival of your seventeenth birthday and would love to have such a wealthy and influential supporter. If he gives you the opportunity to meet again for tea at another point, I would suggest taking him up on the offer."

Harry nodded his head. "Alright, I'll aim for that. So if you won't be joining me, what will you be doing?"

"I'll be around. Don't worry, I won't go far."

The two continued their leisurely slow walk around the surrounding shops and stalls that lined the street since it was still several minutes before Harry was supposed to meet with the Minister. During that time, several people actually managed to muster up the courage to come up to Harry asking to shake his hand, _thank him_ for his defeat of You-Know-Who, which earned a tightly controlled glare from Tom and a tight false smile from Harry, and several other people who congratulated him on his performance in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, which he easily accepted and shrugged off.

This had all managed to attract the attention of the woman, who Harry assumed was most likely a reporter, and the photographer, Bozo. Harry kept her in his peripheral vision as he and Tom made their way from one stall to the next, easily chatting with each other about publicly acceptable things, and politely interacting with Harry's adoring fan base. It was easier to smile and nod to the sniveling masses as they thanked him for defeating the Dark Lord, knowing that said Dark Lord was actually standing directly beside him. Outside he was smiling and accepting their thanks. Inside he was snickering madly.

The reporter, while keeping Harry in her sights at all times, had not yet made any move to approach Harry or Tom.

Tom leaned in close and whispered to Harry a minute before they intended to part ways so Harry could go into the Tea House, "I suspect that the reporter will likely approach me once we separate."

Harry raised a single questioning eyebrow. "Are you going to let her?"

Tom grinned back before leaning in and pressing his lips to Harry's cheek. "You should go. Don't want to be late for the Minister."

Harry had been slightly surprised by the extremely public show of affection, even if it was as minimal as a kiss on the cheek.

Tom began to step away, but Harry just couldn't leave things like that. Almost against his own will, his hand went out, grabbed the front of Tom's robes and pulled him back in. He pressed his lips against Tom's, and he could feel the other wizard grinning into the kiss. It deepened for the briefest of moments before they parted, staring into each other's eyes and smirking madly at each other. At some point during the whole thing, Harry was sure he heard the sound of a magical camera going off.

"Good luck," Tom said.

"Thanks," Harry said, trying not to chuckle too loudly. As he stepped away his eyes swooped over the crowd quick enough to note that just about _everyone_ nearby had been watching the whole interaction. As soon as Harry had started to look around though, they had all quickly tried to divert their gazes. He heard Tom snickering quietly under his breath and felt the other man's amusement in the back of his mind.

The two parted ways and Harry walked across the cobblestone street to the 'Townshend Teahouse'. From the outside he could see an outside dining patio with lots of large potted plants, giving it a garden setting. He stepped past a waist-high wrought-iron fence that marked the boundary of the patio dining area and through the front entrance. Inside it had the look of a traditional formal English tea room. Small round tables with floral fabric table clothes, crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and English bone china on the tables. One wall featured all of the various options of loose-leaf teas that you had to order from, and all of the walls were decorated with paintings and an assortment of eclectic antiques. Some on small tables, and some on small shelves mounted to the walls.

The general decoration scheme screamed 'Victorian', and it took a considerable amount of effort for Harry to keep from grimacing at the whole thing.

"May I help you, sir?" a young girl in what was obviously the establishment's uniform asked him.

"Yes, I'm supposed to be meeting the Minister here," Harry said with an extremely believable pleasant smile plastered on his face.

The girl actually bushed a little and stared at him, wide-eyed for a moment before she seemed to find herself.

"Oh yes, he usually arrives a few minutes late. I can show you to his usual table."

"That would be great, thank you."

The girl then led Harry _back outside_ onto the patio. Harry imagined this was for the sake of keeping the encounter public, and didn't honestly mind. It was a rather nice day out – quite surprising for mid-July in London – plus it seemed that they had some sort of charm cast around the patio that kept the temperature from being exceedingly uncomfortable.

Harry sat down where indicated and looked over the menu that was left there. The place offered an extraordinary number of different teas, but offered some food options as well. Mostly things like scones, sandwiches, biscuits, quiches, and even beans on toast.

"Ah, Mr. Potter! I do hope I haven't kept you waiting too long," came Minister Fudge's voice from behind him. Harry turned in his seat and quickly stood up, offering his hand. Fudge took it eagerly and Harry smiled through the man's disgustingly clammy hand and weak grip.

"Not at all, I've only just been here a minute myself. And please, call me Harry," Harry said easily as he sat back down. Fudge took the seat opposite him and smiled back.

One of the uniformed girls who worked at the teahouse came by and quickly took their order. A moment later she was returning with tea, and a plate with scones and shortbread biscuits, per the Minister's order.

Harry and Fudge set into some light conversation about the weather, and Harry's summer holiday. Fudge praised Harry on his success in the tournament, which Harry graciously accepted, and then praised Fudge right back on some recent legislature that he supported in the Wizengamot. Fudge seemed surprised that Harry was aware of it at all, since it hadn't really been very publicly covered in the Prophet. The legislature, actually, put in additional restrictions on the homes of young muggleborn witches and wizards. It mandated that all muggleborn children's homes must be warded by Ministry officials.

On one end of the argument, it placed 'protections' there. On the other end, it also reported, instantly, any and all magic performed on the premises, to the Ministry. Which, again, could be argued as a security precaution, since underage muggleborn children shouldn't be performing magic in their home anyway, and there aren't supposed to be any magical adults there. In addition to reporting on any magic performed on the premises to the Ministry, the wards also had an extra layer of magic built into them that prevented anyone within the house who knew about magic from ever speaking about it to anyone not keyed into the wards. It was a powerful compulsion charm and the point was, quite obviously, intended to prevent the muggle parents and family from ever letting details about the magical world slip to muggle friends or relatives.

What was less well known was that anyone who willfully tried to circumvent the compulsion spell would suffer quite painfully from it, and if anyone somehow succeeded in letting information slip, the Ministry would be notified, and the wards would render the muggle who let the information slip, comatose until they could be dealt with through other means.

Again, all of these details were _not_ really public knowledge, and the legislature had been passed rather quietly with only a few small blurbs in the Prophet that really only spoke about the Ministry so valiantly offering free warding to protect the homes of muggleborn children.

Harry knew the details about it because of Lucius' and the other more influential pureblood's reports.

It was actually the four different Death Eaters who had seats on the Wizengamot that had done the most work in getting the legislation pushed through, and it was Lucius' diligent work that had gotten the Minister himself to put so much of his own power behind the bill.

It was this vein of conversation that actually dominated most of their conversation. Once Fudge realized just how surprisingly well informed and knowledgeable that Harry seemed on the inner workings of the Ministry's current political engine, the Minister slipped easily into his well-practiced politician role. He got so into the conversation that he had actually managed to forget for a bit that Harry wasn't even fifteen years old yet.

To say that the Minister found himself surprised and impressed with the young man would be an understatement.

It was also easy for Harry to get on the man's political good side since he was clearly echoing a lot of the sentiments that Fudge heard daily from Lucius Malfoy – a man who met with Fudge almost daily, and had been lining the man's pockets with political donations for _years_.

"Ah... I must say, Harry, this has been a pleasant surprise to say the least. Quite a reprieve from the rather ludicrous things I've been having to deal with the last few days," Fudge sighed as he ate the last scone.

"Oh? What sorts of _ludicrous_ things?" Harry asked with only a mild air of interest as he sipped at his tea.

"Ugh, it's the most _ridiculous..!_ _Dumbledore_'s political maneuvering is becoming... concerning. And tiresome. That's all."

"Mind if I ask what exactly the old man is doing that's causing you such distress?"

"Well... you know how there's an election this fall, of course. My opponent is a man that is far more to Dumbledore's liking, I'm sure. In some inane attempt to draw the public's attention back to Dumbledore's past accomplishments, he's trying to claim... oh, it's just absolutely absurd – the man is actually claiming that _You-Know-Who_ has returned!"

Harry took on a stunned, affronted, expression. "You've got to be kidding me! Is he completely barmy?"

"Exactly! It's _absurd_ I tell you! He's just wanting to make me look like a fool! Get the public all worried and riled up. Fear! It's all about fear! Fear to control the masses. If he can get people afraid that _You-Know-Who_ is back, they'll do anything to try and protect themselves! They'd even vote in a fool like Stephan Moffat if the man had the support of the man who defeated Grindlewald! The only man who _You-Know-Who_ supposedly feared."

"He's loosing it, if he thinks he can plant his own man in the Minister's seat by claiming You-Know-Who is back. That's just insane. No one is going to believe that. What evidence is he providing to back up this claim of his?"

Fudge snorted at this point. "He claims his old Death Eater spy, was called back to a meeting by You-Know-Who himself. Claims that the Dark Lord has been back for months, trying to rebuild his power in secret. As if the Dark Lord could come back and _be back_ for months and no one would know! Hah! Ludicrous, I say..." Fudge stopped and then looked up at Harry with some sort of dawning realization in his mind. "Oh my... oh my, I really should have been more sensitive to your situation. Here I am going on about _You-Know-Who_, and you..."

"Don't worry about it, Minister," Harry said with a reassuring tone and a dismissive wave of his hand.

"You know, this isn't even the first time that Dumbledore has tried to claim that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is still alive. He actually claimed that _you_ encountered the Dark Lord in your first year! I... I always wanted to ask you about that, but Dumbledore actually had the gall to _refuse_ me contact with you!"

"What right does he have to refuse anyone contact with me?" Harry said belligerently. "He's been trying to pull stunts like that for years, and quite honestly, I'm sick of it. He's not my legal guardian. He has no legal say over my life outside of school, but he's always trying to stick his nose into my business, where it doesn't belong."

"Exactly!"

"He just wants the world to see me as _his_. He wants the world to think that he's got the Boy-Who-Lived in his back pocket. It's just another political ploy, and I don't particularly appreciate being used by him all the damn time," Harry said and Fudge was nodding his head in enthusiastic agreement. "And to answer your question, I have no idea what exactly Dumbledore _thinks_ I encountered in my first year, but all I know for sure is that our pathetic excuse for a defense teacher, Professor Quirrell, attacked me and tried to steal a priceless and _dangerous_ magical artifact that Dumbledore was keeping hidden in the school. I happened to get in the man's way, and prevented him from gaining the object, which reacted badly to his attempt to steal it, resulting in the man's death. Where Dumbledore gets the idea that You-Know-Who had anything to do with it, I don't know..." Harry said rolling his eyes dramatically.

"That man is obsessed with reliving the glory days! That's what I think!" Fudge exclaimed. "He's renowned for his defeat of Grindlewald, and for his fight against You-Know-Who in the war, but now that things are peaceful and calm, he's falling into obscurity! He's just fawning for attention! Stirring up the pot needlessly and making things unnecessarily complicated for the rest of us!"

Harry grinned, thrilled and amazed at how easy it was to get the man riled up, and how easily he had convinced the Minister that Harry was on his side.

Their conversation continued on in that vein for a short while longer with Harry continuing to stroke the man's ego and play to his paranoia and insecurities. Their meeting ended with Fudge exclaiming how pleasantly surprised he had been with Harry's maturity level and intelligence and expressing the desire to meet again at another time. Harry enthusiastically agreed and told Fudge to send him an owl with a time and he would make every effort to be there.

The two stood and walked to the exit of the patio where they paused. Harry felt Tom's magic nearby and turned his head just in time to catch sight of the man walking towards them with an impish grin on his face. Harry grinned back for a moment before turning to face Fudge.

"It really has been a pleasure doing this, Minister. Thank you so much for inviting me today."

"Oh, don't mention it, my lad. It's been my pleasure!" Fudge paused as Tom came to stand a few feet away and the Minister glanced between him and Harry. Harry glanced over at Tom and smiled.

"Minister, I'd like to introduce you to someone rather special to me, if you don't mind?"

"Oh, no, of course I don't mind, dear boy!"

"Good. This is my very good friend, Nicodemus Tomaras. I'm staying with him this summer. Nick, this is Minister Fudge."

Tom took a confident step forward and stuck out his hand. "It's an honor to meet you, Minister," Tom said in a smooth, calm tone.

"It's a pleasure to meet a friend of young Mr. Potter here," Fudge said, shaking Tom's hand. Harry felt an inkling of disgust in the back of his head and suspected that Tom was finding the Minister's clammy hands just as unpleasant as Harry had. Yet Tom maintained the perfect facade, making Harry internally smirk.

They exchanged pleasantries for a moment longer before Fudge finally had to leave to attend a meeting of some sort at the Ministry and the group parted ways.

"That seemed to go quite well," Tom mused with a small smile on his lips.

"Were you eavesdropping?"

"Of course."

Harry chuckled.

"I wasn't the only one though. The reporter was trying to listen in as well. I disrupted her spells throughout most of the conversation, which she seemed to find quite frustrating."

"Well, I appreciate your efforts then. I definitely would not want some of what was said reported in the Prophet," Harry said with a grimace.

"Quite so. Well, shall we head back?"

"Sounds fine to me."

The pair made their way to one of the alley's designated apparition zones and Tom side-along apparated Harry for appearances sake.

– –


	6. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary: Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta Pass by tannne

AN: Thanks for all the reviews :)

I'm glad that people are enjoying this story. I'm not sure I'll get the chance to update over the weekend. The next chapter will probably be posted on Monday.

In response to a few of the review/questions:

From **smiley** – _is the candidate for the election 'stephan moffat' a reference to doctor who?_

– Bwahaha – I can't believe someone actually caught that. Yes. Yes, it is. It doesn't mean anything though – I just needed a random name.

From **LaTil - **_But I believe he's going to have problems whit Herm, first for went out, and second because his story about his boyfriend is not exactly what he said _

– This is addressed later in the story.

From **Issabelle Eir** – _"Dodge, E & Dodge, E. R" : ) _

– Wish I could take total credit for that little bit of cleverness, but I can't. It originally came from an old Harry Potter RP site called 'Twilight Fading' that is now gone from the nets. The store called 'Love Potion #69' and the brothel called the 'Horny Toad' are also from it.

From **evil genus** – _Nicodemus, wasn't he the leader of the rats in Secrets of Nym?_

– Nicodemus is an old Greek name. It's also a biblical name, was the name of a catholic saint, a famous Russian historian, a famous Swedish architect from the 1600's, a Macedonian monk, is the name of a villain from the Batman comics, and _yes, _it is the name of the wise old rat who helps Mrs. Frisbe in the Secret of NIMH. It is also the name of a town in Kansas. hehe...

I picked it because A. it's meaning seemed to fit quite well, and B. I thought it sounded like a really awesome name. :)

From **aine'iridescent** – _another update so soon? Woman, you are amazing :DD_

– Perhaps I haven't made it clear enough, but I have over 260 pages already written, as of posting this chapter. Part 1 of the story is the first 206 pages, and I will be posting every day / every-other-day until all of Part 1 is posted. After that, there is going to be another long break while I finish Part 2. So even though I'm posting a lot right now, there _is_ going to be another big wait at some point. And FYI – this story is going to be at least 3 parts long, so even when Part 2 is finished and posted, that will not be the end. There will be another wait after that.

And on with the story...

– –

Chapter 5

Things progressed smoothly for several days, slipping back into their newly developing routine. Harry was finding his days extremely busy. He was now attending _all _of the meetings that Tom scheduled throughout the days, although, at least, there weren't quite as many as in the start of the month. But there was still always at least one meeting a day. Between the meetings, his Arithmancy and Ancient Runes work, the Dark Arts and dueling training that he and Tom still tried to squeeze in for at least a half hour a day, and frequently getting distracted by being snogged senseless by Tom, Harry was having trouble finding a moment to just lounge around and relax. Not that he really minded.

The pair had actually made use of the Time-Turner a few times just to squeeze in time for Harry's extra lessons.

Harry had received another round of letters the day after the meeting with the Minister at Diagon Alley. The Minister had sent another invitation for tea; this time scheduled for July 23rd at 3pm. Harry had sent back a quick acceptance letter and a thank you.

He had received another letter from Dumbledore, expressing his deep disappointment in Harry's choices and his refusal to return willingly; clearly trying to play on Harry's supposed respect for authority figures and his desire for acceptance and approval. Of course, Harry had no such respect for any authority figures and did not in any way desire Dumbledore's approval, so the letter's sentiments only make Harry sneer in disgust. Dumbledore had begged Harry to _please_ reveal his location so that he could be collected and taken somewhere _safe_. Harry had replied that he _was_ safe, thank you very much, but thanks anyway.

The Weasley's had all sent letters. They were all glad that he really was safe and that he was happy and enjoying his summer for once. The twins informed him that there had been several instances where a group of adults that they mostly didn't recognize, and usually accompanied by Dumbledore himself, were coming to the Burrow and sequestering themselves into the kitchen while all of the kids were shooed off to bed.

The twins – being _the twins – _didn't take this directive very seriously, and had tried on several instances to listen in. The group, it seemed, was called 'The Order', and they seemed to be making plans or something regarding the return of You-Know-Who. They also informed Harry that it sounded like the Weasley family was going to be spending the second half of the summer somewhere besides the Burrow. The Order's new headquarters was apparently in rather bad shape and Mrs. Weasley had volunteered herself and her family to try and fix the place up. There were also plans to improve the wards around the Burrow while the family stayed at this illusive 'headquarters', although nothing had been said to the kids in any official capacity yet. The twins promised updates when they had them.

Harry smirked as he relayed the information to Tom.

On the 14th, the Prophet's front page was plastered with a very large moving photograph of Harry and Tom's alter-ego 'Nick', sharing their parting kiss. The article beneath,' written by a woman named 'Betty Braithwaite' detailed various witness accounts from his and Tom's trip around Diagon Alley, and then moved onto mention Harry's lengthy tea with the Minister for Magic. Taking up a quarter of the top-half of the front page was a moving photo of Harry and Fudge sitting down at the small round table on the tea house's patio, clearly talking, and smiling genially at each other. Every now and then one of them would pick up a scone or a biscuit and eat it, or laugh lightly at something the other had said. Harry wondered if the Minister was annoyed that Harry's love-life had apparently warranted a larger picture and slightly more attention than the fact that Harry was in the alley to meet with the _Minister for Magic_. He also couldn't get over how ridiculous it was that his love life and afternoon tea was considered front-page news.

The article tried to speculate what that Boy-Who-Lived and winner of the Tri-Wizard Tournament would be doing having tea with the Minister for Magic, but they really had no idea and the speculations were all aimless. Clearly Tom had succeeded in preventing Betty Braithwaite from overhearing anything useful. The article actually spent an amusing amount of time speculating on who the mystery boy that Harry had kissed was, but it could find no witnesses who had recognized him or had heard Harry refer to him by name.

– –

A number of Tom's recent meetings with his Death Eaters had actually been about recruiting excursions that he was sending certain minions out on. Increasing the number of their ranks was important at this early stage and, so far, it had been going rather well. Harry continued to be both thrilled, and mildly bewildered by Tom's behavior. In the meetings he was just as cold, devious, and ruthless, as ever. The man had no hesitation in throwing around torture curses when someone pissed him off; although Harry was finding it harder and harder to refrain from jumping the man when he did such things.

It sometimes made Harry wonder how fucked he had to have become to be intensely aroused by the sight of his lover causing immense pain to others... but quickly shrugged it off, because – honestly? It was fucking _hot_ and the way Voldemort's magic sizzled and tickled at his senses in the most delicious ways when he was getting _really into_ a torture curse was just amazingly tantalizing for him.

But when Tom was just _Tom,_ and the two of them were alone, the older wizard was becoming more and more carefree and flirty with Harry. He'd heard Tom laugh more in the last week than in the entire time he'd known the man prior. It was weird... but it was also amazing.

The evening of July 17th, Tom and Harry were sitting in the study relaxing after a rather strenuous and full day when they both felt the disruption in the wards as someone apparated into the manor's entrance hall. Harry glanced over at Tom with a single raised eyebrow, silently asking the Dark Lord if he had any idea who it was. As far as Harry was aware, no one was expected. He could feel cautious curiosity in the back of his head and knew it was coming from the other man.

Tom shook his head, stood to his feet and effortlessly transformed into his Voldemort persona. Harry always wore his ring around the manor, so he didn't have to do anything extra to disguise himself. Voldemort left the study and made his way down the stairs. Harry followed behind at a distance and as he came to the top of the stairs he could see who it was standing below.

It was Jeno Vass; a Ministry wizard who worked for the DMLE and who was currently stationed at Azkaban as a guard. His father and uncle were both Death Eaters – although, fortunately, neither had ever been publicly outed during the last war – and Jeno had been brought in about two weeks ago and received his own mark.

Harry stood at the top of the stairs and watched as Jeno knelt low in front of Voldemort, bowing his head almost to the floor. Harry could feel Voldemort's smug satisfaction at the gesture and couldn't help but smirk himself. Jeno stood at Voldemort's beckoning, but kept his head bowed as he quickly relayed whatever it was he came to say.

A moment of intrigue, followed by excited anticipation slipped into the back of Harry's mind. He was growing quite accustomed to this. Tom said that it was a part of the bond. Some sort of shared empathy – which was apparently quite common in soul bonds, thus strengthening the theory that what they shared was, in fact, a soul bond of some sort.

Jeno Vass bowed low again and Voldemort waved his hand in a dismissive manner. A moment later the man was apparating out of the manor with a _Crack_ and Voldemort was beginning to make his way back up the stairs towards Harry.

"So, what's the news?" Harry asked as the bone-pale and serpentine older wizard reached the top of the stairs.

"Vass has succeeded in arranging a meeting with one of the upper echelon dementors of Azkaban."

Harry's eyes widened. "That was fast," Harry exclaimed. Vass had only just been told to approach the dementors two days ago.

"They were apparently quite enthusiastic to learn of my return," Voldemort said smirking. "The meeting is for tonight."

Harry nodded slowly. If he was being honest with himself, he really didn't feel all that comfortable with the idea of Voldemort going to visit the dementors. He knew he was being stupid and that there was nothing to worry about but...

"Harry, I will be fine," Voldemort said, clearly having sensed Harry's apprehension. His hand came up and his long bony fingers threaded through Harry's hair and his palm brushed gently along Harry's cheek.

Harry sighed and nodded. "I know, I know... I'm being stupid. I just... I'm not terribly fond of dementors," he grumbled quietly.

Voldemort chuckled and leaned in, pressing his non-lips to Harry's forehead. "I know love. But I'll be fine. They were quite faithful to me in the last war. They will not attack me. They are sick of having to answer to the Ministry. They will be eager to join us."

Harry nodded again and gave the older wizard a reluctant smile.

As it turned out, Voldemort had to leave rather soon in order to make it to the meeting, leaving Harry alone in the manor. They had kicked Wormtail out of the manor almost as soon as Harry had come to stay for the summer, so the man was now on his own as far as living arrangements were concerned. Tom certainly didn't need him around for any sort of magical assistance, and the house elves were far more useful than Wormtail had ever been. He also felt no responsibility to babysit the near-worthless wizard.

Harry couldn't help but hope that the stupid little rat would slip up and get himself caught by the Ministry – thus proving his godfather's innocence – but he knew that wasn't actually an option and would cause them a tremendous amount of inconvenience if it did happen since Wormtail was privy to Harry's switch in allegiances, as well as being aware that Voldemort was back. _Still,_ one could always dream...

Harry watched Tom leave the manor from the entry hall and then listlessly made his way up to their bedroom. He sat at his desk and did some runes revision to try and distract his mind but it wasn't working. It was nearing 11pm, so Harry decided to try and call it an early night, but as he lay in bed, he found the sensation of sleeping in the bed by himself unpleasant. He missed Tom's warmth beside him. He missed his body pillow. He missed Tom's steady breath and the thrumming of his heartbeat.

Harry huffed out, frustrated with himself. He'd only been here for a little over two weeks and he was already so accustomed to his sleeping arrangements that he was having trouble sleeping alone? What the heck was he going to do when September 1st came and he had to go back to Hogwarts?

It was at that point that his hand came up and he smacked himself in the face. He couldn't believe how totally and utterly he had neglected his piece of Tom's soul! Tom's soul shard had been his companion every night for more than eight months, and for the last two weeks, he hadn't even _thought_ about him, let alone actually gone into his mindscape to visit him.

Harry slowed his breathing, centered himself, and slipped into his mindscape for the first time since his summer holiday began. As soon as he entered, he knew something was wrong. Or at least... something was _different._ Maybe not wrong... it didn't feel _wrong_... it just didn't feel the _same_.

It was still almost completely dark with only dim diffuse illumination bouncing off gray mist that filled the floor space. Appearance-wise, everything looked the same as the last time he had been there but something just felt different. He twisted around, searching for the solid silhouette of Tom's soul shard, but... didn't see him anywhere. Harry felt a small knot of panic begin to fill his chest at the distinct _lack_ of the figure. He still felt the soul's presence, so where was his companion?

_Harry..._

Harry froze, spinning around again, searching for the figure, but finding none. The voice seemed to emanate from the dark spot in the corner where everything had begun from, so Harry quickly made his way there. It was the darkest spot in his mindscape – always had been, and he suspected it always would be. While mist filled the rest of his mental space, the dark spot was filled by a black amorphous cloud. He searched it, expecting to find his companion's figure emerging from it any moment, but it didn't.

"Where are you?" Harry asked aloud.

_Don't worry... Harry. _

"Don't worry? Worry about _what_, exactly? Where _are you?"_ Harry asked, his voice becoming slightly alarmed.

_I cannot join you... the way... I used to._

"What! Why not? What happened?"

_I told you once... that your Voldemort and I... we are one person, in some ways... and two people... in others._

"I remember..." Harry said, hesitantly.

_I told you... that__ I contained certain... fragments of who... he is... the parts... he considered... weak._

Harry nodded his head slowly, thinking back on that conversation so many months ago. He hadn't given it much thought in quite a while.

_He tried to cast certain pieces out... to become stronger. He had isolated those aspects of... himself... kept them separated... for many years... when he chose to... break off a... piece of his soul... he decided to send... those pieces of himself... with it. _

Harry frowned. "Wait, you're saying that he broke off a piece of his soul, and he _decided_ to send away part of his personality? But he _didn't know_ that a piece of his soul was in me! I thought it was an accident?"

_He did not... intend for... me to go into you... his plan was to place me... in an object of... his choosing. But he could not complete the process... properly._

"Because he was blasted by the curse," Harry said with dawning understanding.

_Yes... So I latched onto you... but the aspects of his personality... they were never permanently tethered... to me. The magic that keeps a soul... attached to... an object was not... intended to contain the... aspects of himself... that he cast off. They stayed with me... gravitated to me... because they are drawn to Voldemort's soul, whether... it was just a shard... or the original soul. But the hold has been... tenuous. _

"So what are you getting at?" Harry asked, growing impatient.

_The connection... that is forming... between you and him... growing stronger... Bonding you... It has provided a conduit. Those pieces of himself that... he cast away... have returned to him through that connection. They have left me._

Harry gaped at the nothingness of his mindscape. _Was that why Tom had been acting so differently lately?_

"So what does that mean for you? I mean... are you okay?" Harry asked, worriedly.

_Yes... I am quite... good, actually._

"You are?" Harry asked, slightly surprised by that claim.

_I am... pleased. Happy. That you two... have found... this connection. That you... have found... each other. It fills me... with... pride. You have come... so far... I have... been with you... watched you... almost all your life. Even when... you did not know... that I was here._

"So... you're happy for us? Even if you've lost a piece of yourself?"

_I have not lost it. It has returned where it belonged._

Harry heaved a long sigh as he tried to process all of this. He wondered how Tom would take it, knowing that things he had thrown away because he thought they made him weak had come back to him on their own. He wondered if maybe Tom might have already realized what was happening to him. He was always hyper aware of his own behavior, but rarely opened up about it.

Harry shook his head, but smiled. It was a lot to take in, but he certainly didn't _dislike_ the idea.

He raised his head and suddenly caught a glimpse of something in the dark cloud that filled the dark spot that represented Tom's soul. He cocked his head to the side and squinted into the darkness. He took a few steps closer, and as he got closer, the cloud parted, revealing the object he had noticed.

He knew for a fact that it had _not_ been there before. Where there had once been nothing but cloud, mist, and wall, he could now see a _door_.

"What's this?" Harry asked aloud.

_The conduit..._

Harry blinked. "What does that mean, exactly?"

_This is... your mind's representation... of the connection... that you... and your _Tom_ share._

"But why is it a door?"

_The visions... that you used to have... in your sleep... _

Harry waited, expecting the man to go on... but he didn't.

"What about them?"

_This is the path... that your mind took... to enter _his_ mind. Only now... it is stronger... You are stronger._

"Are you saying that if I go through that door, I'll be able to get into Tom's head?"

_He likely has one as well... he could come here. You can go there..._

Harry's eyes widened as he slowly processed this revelation. _This could be huge!_ Harry thought, suddenly. He needed to know the extent of what this connection could do though. If they could somehow use it to communication to each other through their minds, then it could be an enormous benefit once Harry had to go back to Hogwarts.

Harry looked back at the door, debating over whether he should just _go through the door_, or if he should wait until Tom got back from meeting with the dementors.

Thoughts of the dementors sent an uncomfortable shiver down his spine. He still _hated_ the idea of Tom being there, _alone_. Of course, rationally, he knew he was being an idiot. Tom certainly wasn't about to get _killed_. He was the bloody _Dark Lord_ for Merlin's sake. He could handle some dementors. Harry also tried to tell himself that the fact that a piece of Tom's soul was in him would save the man from any sort of deadly accident, but he couldn't completely convince himself of that when dementors were involved.

Dementors didn't hurt your body. They ate your soul. Harry had no idea what an attack on Tom's soul would do...

He closed his eyes and forced the thoughts out of his head. He knew he was being irrational and worrying about stupid things. Still... his irrational worries were nagging at him to check up on Tom and without leaving himself time to second-guess his decision he walked forward through the cloud and opened the door.

As soon as he stepped through the door he felt a great pulling force as he was propelled forward in a blur of light, cold wind with whipping streams of hot air mingled in. He found himself squeezing his eyes shut against the onslaught of unexpected sensation. Without a moment's warning, however, it all suddenly stopped and he felt himself wobble dizzily on his feet for a moment. He was confused and mildly concerned. What the hell was that?

What's more... What... there was something...

He instantly raised his occlumency shields to full strength as he looked around, trying to make sense of the strange sensations. He felt as if someone had just attempted... and _succeeded_ in penetrating his mind. The last person who had even _tried_ to use legilimency on him was Dumbledore, and even _he_ hadn't succeeded! What the hell was going on?

He looked around, taking in his surroundings again. The room was chilled and horribly uncomfortable, but he had cast a rather powerful shield around the portion of the room he was standing in while the three dementors were gathered on the other end deliberating over his offer. He knew they'd accept. They knew it too, they just couldn't afford to appear eager.

But aside from the group of dark creatures and he, himself, there was no one else in the room. Dementors did not bother with the mental arts, so he knew that he hadn't been attacked by one of them, plus they were thoroughly distracted – and what motive would they have?

So what was the cause of the sensation he had felt? Not _felt_... he still felt it. It was _still there._ It didn't feel entirely invasive though – almost natural – so he had almost missed that it was still present. In fact... it was almost...

He shook his head. This was strange. He did _not_ like being surprised or confused, and right now he was both. He had no idea what the hell it was he was experiencing, and that was an experience he entirely andcompletely_ loathed. _

Suddenly he felt a wave of guilt, and the feeling of the presence sort of _tugging_ at his mind. Almost as if it were trying to retreat.

As it pulled, he found himself able to find it better. To locate exactly where it was inside his mind and he closed his eyes momentarily, wary of doing something like that in the presence of the dementors, but too intent on identifying what was going on to hesitate. He slipped inside his mind, searching for the intruding presence and suddenly came across an incredibly familiar magical force.

_Harry?_

He thought, bewildered.

_Tom? Can you hear me?_

_What the..? How are you doing this?_

_Do you remember the visions I had while sleeping, back before I came to you?_

_You're having a vision?_ Tom exclaimed, startled.

_Sort of... it's hard to explain. I'll really need to speak to you in person. I'm going to try and leave. I'm sorry I interrupted your meeting..._ _I was just... being stupid. You know me... Dementor's freak me out. The thought of you being there, alone with them... I just had to check on you._

_No Harry... it's fine. Now that I know what's going on, it's not nearly so distressing. You can remain if you prefer. _Tom paused for a moment. _Harry, are you suggesting that you initiated this whole thing intentionally?_

_I actually did! Sort of. Something kind of big happened. I'll tell you when you get back. Okay?_

Tom sighed, slightly frustrated by the idea of having to wait, but he knew that it was important that he refocused on the meeting.

_Fine. I need to get back to the meeting._

_Please do. I'm really not comfortable with the idea of you not being entirely on your guard around those things._

Tom internally rolled his eyes while smirking. He quickly pulled out of his mindscape and turned back to face the group of dementors. They were still huddled together, although one of the morbid looking creatures was turning occasionally and glancing his way.

He sighed with an air of impatience. He was only going to allow this to go on so much longer. Both sides knew perfectly well how this would turn out, and their insistence on delaying things was beginning to grate on his nerves.

The hum of Harry's presence in the back of his mind brought a reluctant smile upon his lipless mouth, though. It was strangely comforting to feel the young man's habitation in his mind.

The meeting with the dementors was finally drawn to a conclusion with the dementors swearing their allegiance to him and his cause, and arranging for a future meeting to discuss various plans he had. Among other things, they would be providing him with detailed information on Azkaban prison, and agreed that the dementors would start to keep their distance from those prisoners who bore his mark so that they could begin to slowly recover from the negative effects of their nearness to the dark creatures.

Throughout the whole thing, Tom continued to feel Harry's presence in the back of his mind, and also found the younger wizard's emotions bleed through on occasion. In fact, the longer he was there, the more clear and distinct the younger wizard's emotions and reactions became. Less mingled with his own, and more independent as if Harry were slowly being able to separate himself from Tom's first-person view of the events.

Finally the meeting came to an end and Tom left the old shack that he had met with the dementors in and apparated back to the manor. He transformed back into his normal appearance as he made his way up the stairs to the third floor and directly into his and Harry's bedroom. He came to stand at the foot of the bed to find Harry seemingly sleeping soundly. Harry, inside his mind, apparently found this entire experience – namely, watching himself _sleep _through Tom's eyes_ – _very odd.

Tom watched quietly and felt a strong swelling of emotions as he looked down at the peaceful face of his young lover. _Such a beautiful young man..._ _And he's mine. _A grin spread across his thin lips.

Mild embarrassment at war with happiness whispered into the back of his mind, but it was overpowered by affection and warmth. He grinned as he walked closer and ran his fingers over Harry's cheek and brushed his messy black hair away from his face. He really was quite fond of longer hair on Harry. He wondered if the boy intended to grow it out even more. He certainly wouldn't mind.

A mischievous smirk found its way onto his lips and he leaned down, pressing his lips against the lips of the sleeping Harry. In the back of his mind a swirl of emotions grew louder. They were rather convoluted, but it was obvious that Harry found kissing himself to be an entirely weird and disconcerting experience, and that he wanted Tom to stop doing it while he was still inside his head.

Tom pulled back and laughed at the indignant grumble of annoyance he felt from Harry.

"Well, perhaps you should get out, if you don't like what's going on," Tom said aloud, still smirking to himself. He felt the presence pulling and tugging again, but he could sense some frustration and confusion in there too.

"Are you trying to tell me that you _don't know how_ to get out?" Tom asked aloud.

A feeling of resignation and annoyance flooded him and he sighed while shaking his head.

Tom sat down on the edge of the bed, took a simple calming breath and delved inside his own mind, searching for Harry's presence again.

_Harry?_

_Tom! _

_So you're having trouble?_

_Er... yeah. I guess so._

_Tell me how you managed to do this in the first place, and perhaps we can figure out how to undo it._ Tom said with a slight air of exasperation to his mental voice.

_I went into my mindscape like I used to every night, but something was different. My companion can't manifest as a physical silhouette form anymore, like he used to. We need to talk about that actually... um... anyway, in the back of my mindscape, in the dark cloudy area that houses your soul piece, there's a door now. He – the soul piece... my companion – he said that it's a doorway to the conduit that connects us. That it's grown and that I've grown stronger so I can activate it on purpose instead of it just happening by some fluke like back when I had my visions._

_Hmm... fascination,_ Tom mused quietly.

_He said that you probably have it too. That you could come into my mind the same way._ Harry continued.

Tom pondered on this for a moment before 'speaking' again. _You're 'mindscape' is a vivid imagined space with different aspects representing different things. I have rarely bothered with creating a physical manifestation of my mind, but I suspect if I do that now, we may find the 'door' that you can take to leave._

_Ah... that sounds like it could work._

Tom focused on constructing a visible mindscape. It certainly wasn't a foreign concept to him. Creating an imagined, visual mental environment, was actually a common angle many people took when learning more advanced occlumency. Many people tried to create some sort of place that represented them, with separate rooms, or storage containers, for holding different aspects of themselves, or their memories. Tom felt it was a crutch and didn't choose to make use of the method, but he had at least explored the option in the past.

The visual space that materialized was the same one that he had created, long, long ago, when he first tried creating a visual representation of his mind.

Harry materialized beside him, blinking owlishly as he looked around.

"The chamber of secrets?" Harry asked, clearly confused.

"My own personal, chamber of secrets," Tom remarked with mild amusement.

"Why does it look like this?"

"The last time that I bothered to create a visual representation of my mind, I was a sixth year student at Hogwarts."

Harry turned and blinked at him with obvious surprise. "Wow... been a while then, huh?"

Tom snorted lightly. "Yes, you could say that. I experimented with the technique, but didn't feel that it was necessarily right for me, so I abandoned it. The texts that I read recommended creating visual representations that meant something to you. As you can see, this is just the main anti-chamber, and it is not laid out the same as the actual chamber."

Harry nodded. "Right. There's extra doors too."

"The doors lead to various aspects of myself. Different time frames of my life, and different aspects of my personality that I sectioned off."

Harry frowned slightly and his brow furrowed. Tom sensed some turbulent emotions from the younger man and turned to look at him curiously.

"I need to tell you something, Tom," Harry said, turning and facing him.

Tom raised a single questioning eyebrow.

"The soul piece – my companion – he told me that he's lost a portion of you that used to give him the power to manifest form in my mind."

Tom's eyes widened minutely, but inside he felt some things constrict with concern. _Lost a portion of me?_

"He said that you broke off the piece of your soul on purpose that night... that it wasn't an accident," Harry began hesitantly meeting Tom's eyes.

Tom frowned for a moment before sighing lightly. "That is correct. The magic is considered one of the darkest of dark arts. Splintering off a piece of one's soul requires the act of murder to act as a catalyst. I intended to create a... it's called a _horcrux_. An object that contains a piece of one's soul. I intended to create one with your death."

Harry nodded, but had no other obvious reaction to this statement.

"The soul piece in me, he said that you also tried to send away parts of yourself with him. That you had isolated portions of your personality that you didn't like, or that you thought made you weak. You took those portions and sent them with the soul piece."

Tom's eyes widened, slightly startled. "That is correct... although, I had thought I was unsuccessful."

"You mean you didn't think you had sent them away?" Harry asked, surprised.

"They had been suppressed and locked away for a very long time, Harry. Whether they were gone, or still suppressed, I did not know. I felt the same either way. Plus, when everything went to hell, and I was trapped in _limbo_, I wasn't exactly in the position to analyze whether or not I had succeeded in that particular attempt. I had assumed that the creation of the Horcrux had failed, so I had no reason to think that those pieces of myself that I had intended to send away with it, had left me."

"But after you realized that I had become a er... horcrux – did you think that you may have succeeded in sending those pieces away?"

"I... honestly, Harry, I hadn't thought about it much. It had been an extraordinarily long time, and I hadn't even been sure if it were possible to send them away."

"Well, apparently you _did_ send them away. They've been in me – attached to the piece of your soul inside me. But he said that the bond that we've been forming made the conduit between us so much stronger that those pieces of you were pulled back along it. That they were drawn to the _real you_. He said that they've returned to you."

Tom stood there, blinking, blankly at Harry as he processed the young man's words. It explained so much, honestly. He had actually thought that, perhaps, the methods he had used to bind away those emotions and traits had begun to degrade or fail him and that was why they had been slipping through. But knowing now that those traits had, in fact, been banished as he had originally planned, but that they were now trying to remerge... well, it explained some things that had, quite honestly, been concerning him lately.

Only mildly concerning, though. He had to admit that he wasn't nearly as upset about all this as he knew he possibly should be. But he was maintaining control around his followers. He had no trouble remaining in control of his actions and choices during meetings and when it mattered. The other quirks really only tended to show up around Harry, and he had to admit that he didn't exactly mind that.

He found Harry's reactions to his 'unusual' actions to be rather amusing, actually.

"Is that... alright?" Harry's voice broke through his focus, and the insecurities and worry in the younger man's tone made him smile lightly. He took a few steps and closed the gap between the two of them. He reached up and brushed his knuckles against Harry's cheek before splaying his hand out and brushing his fingers through Harry's soft black hair.

"Yes, Harry," he found himself speaking in a soft, reassuring, tone. "It's alright."

It didn't take much effort to add a door to his mental Chamber, that would take Harry back to his own mind. Tom simply had to will it into existence and it was there. Harry opened the door and disappeared inside. Tom pulled out of his mind just in time to see Harry blinking sleep from his eyes and sitting up groggily.

"That was extremely weird," Harry said as he rubbed his hand roughly across his face.

"Hmm... quite. We'll need to explore what all this link of ours can do," Tom mused.

Harry sighed but smiled. He looked away for a minute with a distant, unfocused look to his eyes. Tom could feel some turbulent, conflicted emotions slipping in through their link. He sat there quietly, waiting for Harry to sort through whatever it was he was thinking about.

Finally Harry seemed to come to a decision and he twisted in the bed, facing Tom.

"I'm not the only Horcrux you've made, am I?" Harry asked.

"No. You're not."

"Nagini," Harry said easily. It wasn't a question. It was a statement of fact.

"Correct."

"I can feel you in her. I think part of me has wondered about it for a while, but I didn't exactly know what to think... if it was actually a piece of your soul, or if it was just that you'd infused her with so much of your magic..."

Tom had to admit that he wasn't surprised by this. Harry could sense him where ever he was in the manor, and, honestly, he could sense Harry.

"Is it always something that's alive? That doesn't seem very safe," Harry mused with a furrowed brow.

"Actually, I had never heard of it being done that way. You're right in that it sort of goes against the point of the thing. A horcrux is designed to cheat death. You place a piece of your soul in an object and hide it. As long as that object remains intact, you cannot fully die. There will always be something to tether you to this world. The general idea is to use some small object and hide it. The objects are layered with an incredible amount of protections, making them nearly indestructible except to the most extreme of measures. Using a living creature means that if the creature itself ever dies, the piece of your soul that you have attached to it will be lost.

"But I already had horcruxes hidden and protected to guarantee my survival. Nagini served another purpose. With a piece of my soul within her, I was able to enhance her, as well as maintain a level of control over her. I can enter her mind and control her actions remotely, should I ever have the need."

Harry nodded his head slowly. His eyes were distant and unfocused again and Tom wondered if he should ask what Harry seemed to be so bothered by when Harry finally looked up and met his eyes. Tom felt his chest constrict slightly in the most horribly unpleasant and foreign kind of ways at the devastated look in Harry's eyes.

"The diary," Harry said in a near-whisper. "It had a piece of your soul in it... didn't it?"

Tom sighed heavily and nodded. "It did. But Harry, I –"

"I destroyed a piece of your soul," Harry whispered hoarsely and the waver in his voice made the constricting feeling in Tom's chest tighten.

"Harry, you're being absurd," Tom said, trying to remain outwardly undisturbed by all of this, but feeling small bits of himself crumbling inside. "You were just a child, and you had no idea what – "

"It doesn't matter if I didn't mean to, or if I didn't know what I was doing. It doesn't change the fact that I did it. I _destroyed_ a piece of _your soul!"_ Harry exclaimed in a voice that was louder, but still just was broken and hoarse. "I... I destroyed..."

"I killed your parents," Tom said in a harsh tone. Harry's head slowly turned and he looked at Tom with obvious confusion and a furrowed brow.

"Wha... Tom... no, I –"

"No, Harry. I killed _your parents_. I murdered them, Harry. In cold blood and without remorse or regret. I tried to _kill you. As a defenseless infant! _Even _I _think that's a rather despicable act."

"What are you getting at?" Harry said, shaking his head and still looking confused.

"You say you've forgiven me," Tom said, and though his voice remained sure, inside he felt the tiniest prickle of fear and some part of him _hated_ that he felt it. Hated that he _could_ feel it.

"I have. It's... I don't blame you. Dumbledore –"

"Precisely, Harry. I forgave you for the diary ages ago. I don't blame you at all."

"But it was your _soul!_ A piece of your soul is _lost_ because of what I did!"

"Because of what _Dumbledore_ did. Because of what Lucius did. But what does it matter, Harry?"

"It's your soul!"

"And they were your parents! I cannot replace them. I cannot undo what I did! We can direct our anger at Dumbledore for an eternity, and point fingers, and redirect blame, but it does not change the fact that I took something from you that I can never return! You spent your childhood enduring mistreatment, hate, and abuse at the hands of disgusting muggle filth, because I took away your chance to have a happy childhood with parents who would have loved you! You think that doesn't bother me?"

Harry sat there, staring wide-eyed and stunned, and Tom had to force a heavy breath out and recenter himself. Tom sighed and ran his hand through his hair, smoothing it back and brushing the loose strands back behind his ears. He looked away slightly, feeling unnerved by the powerful emotions he was still having trouble adjusting to.

"It's in the past, Harry," Tom began, quietly. "We cannot unmake our mistakes, we can only move forward. I do not blame you for the destruction of the diary. I created it with the intention that it would one day get secreted back into the school, in hopes that what happened would happen. That it would possess a student and the Chamber would be reopened. I knew that the risk existed that it could be destroyed if things went badly. It was a risk I was willing to take at the time. It is as much my fault, as it is Lucius' and Dumbledore's or yours. Placing blame is meaningless. What's done is done. Do not worry yourself over it."

The two sat in the dark bedroom with nothing but dim moonlight from the windows to illuminate them, for several long, silent, minutes.

"I don't blame you for the Dursley's," Harry said quietly.

"I know, Harry."

"Tom?" Harry's voice was soft, but there was a desperate tinge to it that made Tom look up and meet Harry's beautiful green eyes.

"Yes?"

"Kiss me?"

Tom felt a soft smile slowly work its way onto his lips as he turned his body and leaned over towards the younger wizard, who was still twisted in the blankets of their bedspread. His hand came out and combed through Harry's silky black hair and he pulled them close, brushing his lips against Harry's delicately several times before deepening the kiss and leaning further in.

Clothing was shed slowly and kisses were trailed over flesh lovingly. It wasn't rough or desperate like their coming together so often was. It was slow, and tender. Harry gave as much as he took and as Tom lay on the bed with Harry hovering over him, kissing and sucking delicately on every inch of Tom's chest, and trailing his fingers over every inch of skin as if he were memorizing it, and worshiping it at the same time, Tom realized suddenly that _this_ was what it was like to make love to someone. It wasn't just sex, and they weren't fucking. Of course sex with Harry hadn't ever been _just sex_. But this was different. It wasn't about getting off. It wasn't even about giving or receiving pleasure, per se. It was about providing solace. Reassuring each other. Comforting each other. It was about... about _loving_ each other.

And as he held himself over Harry some time later, rhythmically thrusting in... in... in... it was slow, and deep, and tender. Their chests were pressed together and his lips pressed against Harry's neck and jaw as he whispered and hissed unintelligible nonsense against the gloriously beautiful younger man's skin.

Harry, who was normally so loud and vocal when they fucked, simply panted loudly, moaning and keening quietly in time with Tom's movements while his lips moved to form words that he didn't voice out loud.

And as the crescendo began to climb in the pit of his gut and the pleasure began to spike dramatically, he could feel it echoed from Harry's end of the link and amplifying his own pleasure. The two came, simultaneously, hissing out each others' names in parseltongue.

Tom collapsed on Harry and slowly slid to the side, wrapping his arm around Harry and holding him tightly to him before twisting around to lay on his back, pulling Harry with him. Harry smiled against him and curled up into his usual position, using Tom's shoulder as his pillow and draping one leg over the other man's hips and slipping easily into sleep.

Several long, quiet minutes of listening to Harry's deep, consistent breathing passed and Tom turned his head, pressing his lips against Harry's forehead as he watched him sleep.

"I think I love you, Harry," he whispered, kissing Harry one more time before sighing heavily and closing his own eyes. He allowed sleep to take him, and felt himself sleeping easier than he had in a very long time.

– –

AN:  Was the transition from Harry's POV to Tom's POV done alright? I didn't want it to be too confusing, but I didn't want it to be screamingly obvious right away either.


	7. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary: Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

This story has not been beta'd yet.

AN: Managed to find the time to get the next chapter ready a day earlier. I caught a nasty cold that my four year old brought home with her from pre-school. Feel like craaaaap.

In totally unimportant me-news, I got my Slytherin scarf and tie from the WB official store, and the pattern I ordered for really awesome wizard robes showed up last week, so I went out yesterday and purchased the fabric for making myself some Slytherin robes. Bwahaha – I'm such a nerd. Going to be dressing up for Halloween (Company Halloween Costume Contest – w00t) _and_ dressing up for the DH movies. I even have a wand, but I got that about a year or so ago. My husband was all like 'Why Slytherin? Why not Gryffindor?' and I was like – Gryffindors are _boring._ lol...

To Barranca –  It wasn't actually a piece of Tom's 'soul' that was separated off, and transferred along their link, but rather his ability to experience certain emotions. He had tried to remove the ability to care or love from his normal emotional repertoire. He considered them worthless emotions that only left people vulnerable and weak, and as far as he was concerned, he'd never really even experienced them before anyway, so he wasn't loosing anything. Mostly it was a magical experiment he tried when he was younger but considered mostly inconsequential.

He had separated off these different emotional aspects of his psyche many years ago, but they were still in him. When he decided to make his final horcrux with Harry Potter's death, he got the idea of trying to send the separated emotional aspects with it. That was what happened, but because everything went to hell, the emotional bits weren't secured to the horcrux very well, and the whole idea was theoretical to begin with. Once it was provided with an easy and direct path back to the 'main soul', it took it and returned to Tom. It then slowly re-integrated with his mind.

I hope that clears it up. :)

Chapter 6

The next day was a very significant day at the manor. It was the first full scale Death Eater meeting since Voldemort had initially announced his return to his followers. _Everyone_ was called in. It was 3pm in the afternoon when everyone was summoned to the manor and the group gathered in the ballroom, nervously looking around, wondering were Voldemort was, because he wasn't in the room, waiting for them.

The group was already larger than it had been before, since there had already been some success in the recruitment front. Most of the new recruits were family members of the older Death Eaters, but there were also some who were friends,co-workers, and political allies, who had been brought in at some point during the previous month. But none of those present seemed to actually know what this meeting was about. The only one in the room who seemed to know what was going on was Barty, who was standing off to the side, surveying the crowd with a smirk on his lips. He was wearing black robes, like the rest of them, but his hood was down and his mask was tucked into his inner pocket. Some in the room were dressed the same as he, with their faces exposed, while most wore their masks.

The doors to the ballroom opened, rather dramatically, and the room fell silent. Voldemort walked in with his brisk, powerful, strides, and Harry, as _Evan Harris_, followed immediately behind him with equal confidence. He was wearing his Death Eater robes and silver half-mask, and carrying a leather portfolio filled with papers. Some of the gathered Death Eaters all bowed at the waist as Voldemort came to stand at the front of the group, while about a third of them went all the way down to their knees in a sign of submission.

"I hope you all have your schedules cleared for the day, because we will likely be here for a while," Voldemort began. "For those of my followers who stood by me during the first war, aside from those of you who now work in the Department for Magical Law Enforcement, it has likely been years since you last saw action. For those who have joined me since my return, it is likely you never have seen real action at all. I know that many of you have enjoyed comfort during my absence, and it is likely you have allowed your skills to _slip,_" he sneered as he glowered across the group. Quite a few flinched or bowed their heads under his glare.

"I need to gauge your combative skill levels, and it is likely that many of you are in desperate need of training. I will be splitting you into three groups. Those of you who possess advanced skill, and have not let your ability to duel and battle degrade over the years. Those of you who are able in battle, but could still use training to further your skills will be placed in the intermediate group, and finally, a group for those with absolutely worthless combat skills. I understand that some of you have uses to me that go beyond your ability to fight, but I still need to know where you skill level lies."

Voldemort's gaze traveled over the group of forty-plus men and a few women in black robes and white masks. Some of them – especially the older of the group – had obviously grown fat and lazy in the years since his last rise to power. They possessed political power and influence, so they were far from useless, but he knew that when it came time for combat, many of them would be useless. Fortunately, he didn't expect any combat scenarios to arise for at least three months, and he was sure he could pull together a good enough team for what he had planned from the remaining Death Eaters by then.

"The three groups will be expected to come to the manor at a designated time, every week, for training... with _me._"

As he finished that last part, a mix of excited and anxious murmurs broke out in the crowd and the level of tension rose considerably.

"I will designate the time and you will be responsible for creating some sort of excuse as to why you are gone each week. I am not going to try and accommodate everyone's schedules, you will simply have to make due. You _will_ be here."

Voldemort's tone booked no room for argument, so no one dared. He continued on, explaining how that afternoon would progress.

"To speed things along, I ask that you all separate _yourselves_ for the initial stage. Everyone who _believes_ themselves adequate for the advanced group, stand over there," Tom said, indicating one side of the room. "Those who believe they would be a better fit for the intermediate group, gather there," again, he pointed to the desired location. "And those who are willing to admit that your battle skills are abysmal, stand over there. Do not try and lie or boast about your skill level and place yourself higher than you belong. I will know who does and does not belong in each group by the end of this day, and putting yourself in a group of higher skill than you actually possess will only make things more difficult for you in the end." Voldemort finished dryly.

The gathered group quickly began to divvy themselves up. The third group was the smallest, but Harry knew that by the end of the day, it would probably be much larger. He knew that Tom had high expectations for those who would be placed in the advanced group, and even the intermediate group was going to need some trimming. Harry stood to the side and observed the crowd as the Dark Lord spoke. His voice was confident, commanding, sharp, and left the majority of the people in the room in awe, or in cowed fear. Harry always found it amazing to watch the man as he commanded his followers. The level of control and power he wielded was glorious.

It wasn't too long before the room was a blur of action. Voldemort had mock duels going on in all of the groups while he, Harry, and Barty walked around, observing. Curses were flying, people were being blasted across open spaces, spells were being shouted, while those who _weren't _idiots were casting non-verbally.

Harry watched as a man in the advanced group, who had done, remarkably well, slipped away and made his way towards the intermediate group. Harry was curious about this, and observed from a distance, since he had been rather positive that this man definitely deserved to be in the advanced group.

He was wearing the standard black robes, but his hood was down and his mask was off. He looked to be about the same age as Barty, which would suggest that he joined Voldemort towards the end of the last war, and right out of Hogwarts. He was a large, stocky man with a thick neck, a square face, strong jaw, and short-cropped blond hair.

Harry watched as he began to speak to several of the people in the intermediate group, a few of which were younger wizards that Harry knew had only just recently joined. The man seemed to be demonstrating a proper duelers stance to a couple of them, and gesturing with his hands as he explained something.

The younger wizards nodded their head and resumed their duel, with visibly improved success. The man continued to watch the duels for a moment before making his way over to another dueling group and speaking to them – again, clearly giving instruction.

Harry turned and walked towards Voldemort, who was watching the advanced group carefully.

"My Lord," Harry said, bowing his head slightly and drawing Voldemort's attention to him. He turned and looked at Harry expectantly.

"Yes, Evan?"

"I'm curious about that man over, there," Harry paused, turned, and pointed towards the stocky blond Death Eater who was still instructing some of the Intermediate group. "Who is he?"

Voldemort looked over and watched for a moment before responding. "That is Thorfinn Rowle. I believe he is a private tutor, and a professional dueler."

"Is that so? Not that surprising really. He did quite well in the Advanced group duels earlier, but he wandered over there and started giving tips to the younger recruits."

"It is likely that he tutored many of them. He is often hired by the old families to teach their children dueling and the Dark Arts. He's a dueling champion, in fact."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "It might not be a bad idea to have him come in for the other classes to help with the training."

Voldemort nodded. "Agreed."

They split up again and resumed their observations. After a while, Voldemort began having specific individuals go up against each other so he could observe them. He had different people perform specific curses – or at least _try –_ since there were quite a few who were incapable of doing certain spells. He also, at one point, had everyone demonstrate a few specific advanced spells, like _Imperio, Crucio, _and the _Patronis_, to show if they could, or could not actually cast them.

Harry was stunned at just how many of those gathered _couldn't cast a bloody Patronis!_ He'd learned it when he was thirteen years old for Merlin's sake! But Voldemort quietly explained to Harry that the Patronis was a high level Light magic spell, and the act of practicing it at a young age would actually affect a person's magical affinity, so few Dark families were inclined to teach it to their children for fear of tainting their magic. It gave Harry pause for a moment, and he wondered suddenly if his months of constant practice of the spell during his third year was the cause of his affinity having been Light a year earlier.

In the end, the 'beginner' group _had_ grown in size, but not nearly as much as Harry and Voldemort had feared. It was good to know that, even in times of peace, many of the Death Eaters had managed to keep up their battle skills – or at least their spell repertoire. They would still need some physical conditioning, but that was part of the point of the training.

The portfolio that Harry had brought in had a sheet of paper with the name and basic information of every one of Voldemort's Death Eaters, and after the various duels and tests, Voldemort, Harry, and Barty sat down and sorted through them, making note of which group each person was sorted into.

It was obvious from a few tightly concealed glares that there were those among the crowd that were jealous of 'Evan' and Barty's high positions at Voldemort's side. Harry was sure that Lucius Malfoy was distinctly annoyed that he wasn't getting any preferential treatment, when he had been one of Voldemort's most trusted followers during the last war. Of course, he was already on thin ice after his utter failure with the diary, so he wasn't about to speak out, or even openly display his displeasure.

Voldemort explained to the three groups when they should come to the manor, and what tasks they should perform on their own to prepare.

It was after dinner before things were finally drawn to a close and as the gathered Death Eaters began to shuffle and prepare to leave, Voldemort called out.

"Rowle, stay behind."

The man in question looked up with a blank mask and nodded his head curtly to indicate that he had heard.

"The rest of you are dismissed," Voldemort called out finally and stood along with Harry and Barty, who were still flipping through some of the profile papers, making notes of each person's skill level, weaknesses, and what specific things they had observed so far that those individuals would need to work on.

Thorfinn Rowle came up to the group, bent down onto one knee and bowed his head as he came to a stop before Voldemort. "Yes, my Lord? How may I serve you?"

"You may stand," Voldemort said easily and the stocky man did just that. "I observed you lending your assistance to the others during the duels and practice sessions. I believe that your profession is that of a dueling and defense instructor, correct?"

"That is correct, my Lord," Rowle said. His voice was low and a bit gravely.

"I want you to come in for all of the meetings, will that be a problem for you?"

"Of course not, my Lord. My schedule is quite open at the moment, as I'm only tutoring one student this summer."

"I want you to assist, especially with the weak and the intermediate classes, in teaching and preparing my followers for battle. Evan, Barty, and I will be meeting the afternoon after next to make additional plans to the training sessions. I want you to join us."

"Yes, my Lord!" Rowle said eagerly and Harry could see the excited glow hidden in the man's stony face.

A bit more time was spent discussing some things before Rowle and Barty were dismissed. Harry and Tom had a late dinner before retiring to the study. Tom spent the next hour going through the profiles and adding in more notes about his observations of each of their skill levels. While he did this, Harry used the side of Tom's desk to do some more Runes revision before shifting to working on the Transfiguration essay that McGonagall had assigned for the summer holidays. He already had his charms and potions essays completed, and since he was dropping Divination, he didn't actually have to worry about that class.

He knew that, even if he couldn't get the whole runes and arithmancy classes thing to work, there was still no way he hell he was going back to Trelawney's class.

Harry knew that Mixey had made a trip to the post box in France that day so he called her in, once he was done with his class work and had her bring him the mail. Harry sorted through his mail while Tom moved onto sorting through some reports from his Death Eaters who worked for the Ministry.

The letters were mostly more of the same. Hermione was still obviously glowing from her wonderful vacation in Italy and Greece with the Krum family, but she was also obviously bummed that Viktor was now gone and she really didn't know when she'd see him next. She and her parents were still out of the country, but would be returning to England in another week.

Ginny's letter was practically explosive in her excitement and worry about Harry and his mystery boyfriend having been seen and photographed in Diagon Alley. She noted that the guy Harry had been photographed _kissing, _was rather cute and she commended Harry on his attractive catch and then insisted that he had to share some information with her about the mystery boy _now_. He laughed quietly to himself as he read it. She was also incredibly curious about why Harry was meeting with the Minister of all people.

The twin's letter was, again, the most useful of the lot since they were still clearly making every effort to listen in on any and all Order meetings that were held at their house. The Prophet article about Harry having spent an afternoon in Diagon Alley had apparently really caused quite the ruckus with the Order. The day the article came out they had called some sort of emergency meeting to discuss it. The bit about Harry having met with the Minister was bewildering to all of them, but the fact that Harry was clearly alive and well – _and kissing strange unknown boys in London!_ – did, at least, calm some fears about Harry having been kidnapped.

The twins also informed Harry that the Order now officially had a headquarters and that the Weasley's were supposed to be going there in a few days to help clean the place up.

Ron's letter was short and rather pointless. Basically just telling Harry about all the boring things that Ron had been doing around the Burrow; his frustration with all of the unknown adults around the house and all the secrets they were keeping from the kids; and a very short blurb about everyone freaking out over Harry's picture being in the Prophet and asking him what he was doing having tea with the Minister for Magic.

Harry wrote his response to the twins first, thanking them for the information and telling them to keep it coming. He was eager to find out about this 'headquarters'. He noted how stupid he thought it was that Dumbledore's secret organization to fight against Voldemort was wasting their time trying to hunt him down even after he's assured all of his friends _and_ Dumbledore himself, that he's safe and happy right where he was.

He also spent a few paragraphs detailing an idea for a prank item that he'd come up with that would make use of some of the runes he'd been studying.

He got Ron's letter out of the way fast. Just a simple response saying that he was having loads of fun, but that he'd also been slowly making his way through his summer homework. He said that the Minister had set up the meeting with them back at the Tri-Wizard tournament and that it had seemed rude to refuse.

Next he focused on Ginny's letter. Here he paused with his quill hovering over the parchment debating with himself, internally. Finally, he began.

_Dear Ginny,_

_Thanks for your letter. Don't worry about me being upset or anything about having been photographed in public. I knew the Prophet's photographer was around somewhere and it was bound to happen while I was there. I suppose I owe you some details since I went and let things get exposed in the paper._

_My boyfriend's name is Nicodemus. He actually isn't a student at Hogwarts, or Beauxbatons, or Durmstrang. In fact, he was actually home-schooled and completed his OWLs and NEWTs at the Ministry. He worked and lived in Hogsmeade this last year while he was studying for his NEWTs and I met him one time while I was sneaking out of the school. He worked as a stockboy for Honeyduke's, and – do you know about the secret passage that leads from Hogwarts to the cellar of Honeyduke's? Well... there is one, and I was using it the first time I ran into Nick. He and I got to talking and things just kind of went from there._

_So I guess that blows all the bets, yeah? Not in any of the houses, __or__ any of the three schools. Heh... Getting away with Nick was great though. To him I'm not the Boy-Who-Lived, or Harry Bloody Potter. I'm just Harry. He __gets__ me. I know I swore to Hermione that I wasn't sneaking out of the school, so I'm sure she's going to be angry with me for lying about that. The truth is that I rarely left the tunnel or Honeyduke's cellar when Nick and I did meet up, so I was only just _barely_ sneaking out of the school. Mostly we just wrote letters back and forth all year using this charmed paper. The sneaking out happened mostly towards the end when we ended up meeting in the tunnel and snogging._

_So anyway, Nick and I are spending the summer in his families ancestral home in France. He inherited it last winter when he turned seventeen. (Yes, I know he's older than me, but it's only a couple years, so who cares, really? And Viktor is 17, so Hermione certainly can't get on my case for dating an older guy, can she?) I guess this qualifies as giving out too much sensitive information, but I'm confident that even if Dumbledore knew about Nick and that I'm staying at his families home, he still couldn't find me. The house is unplottable and behind a mountain of wards._

_The meeting with the Minister was actually arranged back right before the third task of the tournament. He asked me if I'd like to join him for tea at some point over the summer and it seemed rude to refuse so I told him to owl me and I'd see what I could do. He did send an owl a couple weeks ago, and I agreed. So that's why I was in Diagon Alley. Nick went with me (we used side-along apparition) and we had a really fun day._

_We finally decided to just say 'screw it' to public opinion and figured we'd go out in public and just take things as they came at us. Nick says that he's proud to be with me and doesn't care about any press insanity he will have to face because of us being out in the open. His parents are actually both dead. He was raised by his godmother, and she died last year. He has some distant family and they would all deeply disapprove of him being gay, but he says he doesn't care and they can all go to hell. I know this doesn't mesh 100% with what I told you guys, but I had my reasons, and I promise to explain better when we meet at the start of term._

_Nick is really... great. It's been an amazing summer. We're probably going to make a few more random trips out over the next month or so, but for the most part we're just staying in._

_Anyway, I'm sure I'm boring you to death, so I'll cut this off. From your brothers it sounds like you all might be spending the rest of the summer somewhere other than the Burrow. Hope it interesting at least. I'll write again later._

_Bye Gin!_

_Harry_

Harry had Tom read over the letter before he sealed it into an envelope just to make sure he hadn't revealed anything that could cause them trouble later on. Tom felt that everything revealed served a purpose and didn't actually pose any risks. By the time Harry was done with Ginny's letter, the night was drawing to a close and Tom was finished up with his work so Harry decided to put off writing Hermione's letter till the next day.

– –

Tom and Harry hurried through their morning routine the next day because they were expecting another large group of visitors to the manor at noon. Not as big as the full Death Eater meeting the day before, but still sizable.

Karkaroff was coming today with a group of graduates from Durmstrang. Some who had only just graduated this year, as well as several who had graduated during the last few years. All of them interested and willing to join the Death Eaters.

Tom intended to interview each of them to see where their strengths lie, what their family and political connections were and if they were worth anything to him as more than just battle foot-soldiers. He also intended to test to see where their skills lay so that he could determine which of the training classes they should be joining with the rest of the Death Eaters.

Karkaroff was bringing them, then the group would be led by Barty, into one of the large sitting rooms on the first floor to wait. Karkaroff would go to Voldemort in the conference room with the papers detailing each of the prospective candidates and go over a quick briefing. Then the witches and wizards would be called in, one at a time.

While all of this was going on, Harry was supposed to observe those waiting in the sitting room and try and get a feel for each of them, as well as their motives for wanting to join.

"_You want me to spy on them?"_ Harry had asked when Tom had first told him of his plans.

"_Yes, Harry. People are likely to expose certain things to their peers when they do not think that they are being watched too carefully. Things that they would not expose to me. Things that I consider important."_

"_Okay... so... how exactly do you want me to do this?"_

"_I was thinking, at first at least, you could use your serpentine transformation again."_

_Harry nodded his head slowly as he thought about this. "Alright, but isn't there a chance that having a huge poisonous sea serpent in the room with them, likely to set them on edge?"_

_Tom had laughed at that. "Most likely, yes. Although I will have Barty tell them not to mind the snake when he leads them into the sitting room to wait."_

_Harry shrugged. "Alright. It shouldn't be a problem."_

And so that was what was happening now. Harry, already in his sea krait form, was laying on the floor beneath one of the large old sofas in the sitting room, while Barty greeted Karkaroff and his former students in the entry hall.

A minute later the group of 12 different young wizards and witches began to fill the spacious sitting room. Barty stood at the door as they all filed in and once the last of them had entered the room, he told them that they would be called one at a time for a personal interview with the Dark Lord and that they would wait in that room until that time. The young people all seemed to buzz with a mixture of nervous excitement and fear at this prospect. Barty told them that, since Karkaroff still needed to have his briefing with the Dark Lord first, it would likely be at least twenty minutes before the first one was called in, so they should get comfortable. Just before he was about to leave the room, he turned back and called out for them not to worry about the snake. He wouldn't hurt them.

This announcement had caused the group to look around with wide, fear-filled eyes, searching for this snake the Death Eater had spoke of. Harry took that moment to slither out from under the couch, climb up the side and begin lounging along the back instead. The two young men who were sitting on the couch jumped up at the movement, and one girl yelped a bit as she backed away from the couch, several feet.

Barty had chuckled at all of their reactions. He told them that if anyone hurt the snake, they'd face the Dark Lord's wraith because he was a prized pet, and then he walked out the door and closed it behind him.

The group remained tense as they all stared at the enormous black-and-white striped snake.

"Do you think it's poisonous?" a girl who looked to be about twenty asked in a quiet whisper to a young man who was standing beside her.

"It belongs to the _Dark Lord_, of course it's poisonous!" he hissed back sharply.

"It _is_ poisonous. Dat's a Sea Krait," another man said as he nodded his head towards the serpent. "Eets _huge_ doh. I've never zeen one zo big! Dey don't geet that big on der own."

"Vell _obviously_ da Dark Lord used magic on it," a girl with a rather low voice said sarcastically.

"Shut up, Sofiko! Vat da Headmaster vas dinking, bring _you _here, I don't know. Vhat good vill _you_ be to da Dark Lord?"

"Go to hell, Sergei! The Dark Lord vill –"

"Vould the both of you just _shut up!"_ a third man yelled, instantly quieting the two arguing. Harry realized that he recognized that voice and turned his head to see the tall, imposing form of _Viktor Krum_ standing in the center of the room, scowling at the two who had been bickering.

"Ve vill likely be here a while, and I vould rather not spend it listening to da two of you yelling at each other!" Krum continued, sneering and cowing the other two. Harry found this rather impressive since the two that had been arguing were clearly older than Krum, who had only just graduated.

The room was tense and quiet for a minute before Krum huffed in annoyance and took a few purposeful strides towards the abandoned couch that housed Harry's serpentine form. Krum roughly sat down on the couch, ignoring the large snake and crossing one leg over the other knee.

The two that had been arguing shot each other hateful glares before splitting up and standing on opposite sides of the room. The collected people all seemed to separate off into groups of acquaintances and friends. Some were obviously classmates or friends of each other, and those people began talking quietly amongst each other while others stood or sat solitary in various parts of room room.

Another young man that looked to be about the same age as Krum, and who Harry vaguely recognized, came and sat – albeit reluctantly – beside Krum on the couch. His head kept turning slightly and his eyes were cautiously trained on the snake for several moments before he turned to Krum.

"I haff to admit, I'm surprised you're here," the young man said quietly.

Krum turned and narrowed his eyes at the boy, giving him a long hard look for a minute before speaking.

"Oh? And vhy iz dat?"

"Vell, everyone knows that you're dating that mudblood."

Krum's wand was drawn at pointed at the other man's throat before he had even had a chance to recognize that Krum had moved. He flinched back and stared, wide eyed at the Bulgarian quidditch star.

"Don't ever use dat word around me!" Krum hissed in a low, threatening voice.

The other man held up his hands in surrender, trying to calm Krum down. "Alright, alright. Calm down! But... I mean, you've sort of proven my point, haffen't you?"

"Vhat point?" Krum spat.

"Vell, mud... muggleborns aren't exactly very popular vis zhe Dark Lord, now are they?"

"Zhe headmaster told me dhat the Dark Lord's plans have changed. He is not hunting down zhe muggleborns."

"And vhat if da Headmaster is _wrong?_"

"I intend to ask zhe Dark Lord vhen I zee him."

The other boy blinked at Krum. "Are you out of your mind?"

"I vant to know," Krum said, holding his head high. "If the Dark Lord plans to hunt down all of zhe muggleborns, or start killing zee the muggles, than I vill not join."

"You _are_ out of your mind," the boy said, leaning back on the couch and relaxing more for a moment... until he felt the thick snake body behind his head and sat forward, his eyes darting fearfully towards the snake for a moment before cautiously refocusing on Krum.

"Zhe Dark Lord is supposed to fight for those of Dark Magic. Protect us and our rights. England is a corrupt mess. Dhey are so biased towards the Light it is sickening. I would not haff cared, but my love is here. Diss is her home, so vhat happens here matters to me now. If zhe Dark Lord is going to fix zhe mess dhat has become of England's magical laws, dhen I vill stand behind him," Krum said with absolute conviction.

Impressed, Harry listened on for a few minutes longer before slithering off the back of the couch – and scaring the living shit out of the boy that Krum had been sitting with in the process – and moved on to listen to a few of the other conversing groups. There were a couple boys who Harry learned seemed to only be there because they wanted a 'license to kill'. Basically, they were looking for action, and thought that they'd get it with the Death Eaters. Not ideal followers, since their eagerness would likely lead them to make stupid mistakes, but he knew that Tom wouldn't turn them away either. If it came down to a huge battle where sheer numbers would matter, every wand they could get would help. Still, he would recommend to Tom that they never be involved in anything terribly important.

There was another boy that Harry was instantly wary of. His sole reason for being there was his desire to kill muggle and muggleborns. That was _it_. He had no other reasoning behind his decision to join. He had heard stories of groups of Death Eaters raiding muggle villages in the last war. Having their way with the women and burning down and slaughtering dozens of stupid filthy muggles.

Harry knew that this one would be a liability. The second he was marked and had himself the mask and cloak, he would go out and try to 'have some fun'. The last thing they wanted was to draw the attention of the muggles to magic, and this stupid idiot would likely do just that.

After about twenty minutes Barty came in, looked around the room for a moment before finding Harry underneath a coffee table. They met eyes, Barty nodded his head and then left the room again. The group of gathered potential Death Eaters looked at each other in confusion, but Harry instantly began to slither towards a vent in the wall. He nudged it open with his nose and climbed through. He quickly made his way through the walls and directly to the conference room where Voldemort was currently seated. He was the only one in the room and was clearly expecting Harry. As soon as Harry was completely out of the vent, he transformed back into his human form and sat down at the table. He began to relate everything that he had learned, including his impressions of Krum, the ones just looking for action, and the one out for muggle blood.

They kept their chat short and Harry transformed back into his serpent form and lounged around Voldemort's shoulders – which he found he enjoyed immensely – so that Voldemort could begin his interviews. Barty brought them in, one by one, and Harry quietly hissed additional observations and opinions on each one. Several of them looked at the snake with wide, startled eyes, when they came into the room and found him now lounging across the Dark Lord's shoulders.

When Harry and Voldemort hissed in obvious conversation, some sort of dawning understanding seemed to pass through their eyes, but none commented on it.

Krum's interview was especially interesting. The guy had guts, Harry would give him that. He had actually asked, _point-blank_, what Voldemort intended to do about muggleborns. Wanting to know if there were going to be muggle hunting raids or attacks on muggleborns and their families. Harry knew that Voldemort would have likely cursed the boy for his attitude if it weren't for Harry having expressed such interest in his joining, and having also made note that Krum being a Death Eater could be useful to Harry when he got back to Hogwarts.

So instead, Voldemort tolerated Krum's questions and answered them with surprising honesty. Muggles _were_ filth, but muggleborns are still witches and wizards and their magical blood must still be protected. Any actions that would draw unwanted attention from the muggles to the magical races of the world were to be avoided at all costs. Absolute separation from the muggle world was the goal. Attacks upon muggles would be counter-productive, and as such, would be avoided at all costs. Any Death Eaters who attacked muggles without authorization would be punished.

The goal was to gain control of Britain's wizarding government, by force only if necessary. The goal was to rewrite the magical laws and restructure how their world fundamentally worked. Much of that would be done slowly through reeducation of the populace, via propaganda. Part of that reeducation would involve changing how the magical populace viewed muggleborns.

In the end, Krum seemed optimistic, although, he barely showed it. He kept his emotions mostly in check and Harry could tell Voldemort was impressed with the boy.

Once all of the individual interviews were complete, the one out for muggle blood was dismissed, while the rest of the group of prospective Death Eaters were led into the ballroom where Voldemort put them each through a couple duels with each other and magical demonstration.

In the end, all of them, save one, was told to come for the intermediate sessions. The one that was told to come to the beginner session was a girl who had only graduated this year. Harry suspected that Tom wouldn't have kept her at all if not for her parent's powerful British political connections.

By the time everyone left, it was time for dinner. Harry and Tom retreated to the dinning room and Mixey brought in their meal. They spoke lightly over dinner, debating which of the new recruits had the most promise and which would need the most work.

"I wonder if I should reveal myself to Krum," Harry said as he set down his glass of butterbeer after finishing his meal.

"Why would you do that?" Tom asked with slightly narrowed eyes.

"Well, I probably wouldn't reveal _Evan Harris_ as me, of course, but I mean, I wonder if I should let Krum know that _Harry Potter_ is on his side. He and I could work on Hermione from two different angles. I'm sure he's going to be trying to open her mind even more."

"I was under the impression that you weren't terribly fond of this girl anymore."

"I'm... _torn_, honestly. She could prove to be either a great ally, or an incredibly bothersome nuisance. If _anyone_ is likely to figure me out, at Hogwarts, it's _her_. She's around me all the time, she clever, observant, and she's _persistent. _I know she's already suspicious about my change over the last year, but I was able to keep milking her guilt to get her to back off and give me some space. I doubt that will stick this year," Harry said before pausing and looking thoughtful. "You know back when I had you teach me the counter to the affinity detection spell? You know what my biggest motivation for that was?"

"Hmm?"

"Hermione," Harry said with a firm nod. "If anyone would start to suspect me of going Dark, I knew it would be her. She would be the first one to start really seeing the symptoms for what they were, and she would use that spell to confirm her hypothesis. She also knows that the affinity detection spell exists, and I wouldn't, for an instant, doubt her ability to cast it. I read her mind several times over the last few months of term and I _know_ she was already starting to guess and worry about my behavior, but she kept convincing herself that it was absurd, and dismissing it. That won't last much longer. If I can get her on my side, then it won't matter. In fact, I can get her to cover for me."

Tom nodded slowly as he swirled his sifter glass of brandy. "And do you honestly think you can convince her?"

Harry sighed and sat back in his chair. "Honestly? I have no idea. I think I may be able to convince her that Dark magic isn't _evil _magic, but convince her to join the Death Eaters? Hah... yeah, that would be _a lot _harder. If not impossible... But as far as getting her to broaden her perception of Dark Magic... yeah, maybe. But I know It would be a lot easier if she had more than one source feeding her _alternative views_ on the nature of Dark Magic. If Krum is playing his role while I'm working on her from another angle, then it'll improve our chances. Of course, the _best_ thing would be if an adult authority figure was added into the mix, because Hermione has this obscene level of respect for authority figures, but the chances of that happening are slim-to-none."

Tom nodded his head and the two continued on in their conversation for a while longer before they went down into Tom's basement potions lab. Tom had been working off-and-on on some dueling dummies that he'd been designing. They'd tested out some of the early prototypes during their dueling sessions, but for the ones that would be used in the Death Eater training, Tom needed to make adjustments. Harry mostly observed, but helped where he could. He was excited that his new rudimentary understanding of arithmancy made the spell creation aspects easier to understand, even if it was still way over his head.

Tom explained things as he went, which Harry appreciated, and kept the whole thing more interesting. The pair were up, late into the night, making the final adjustments to the final prototype. The next day would involve the planning meeting with Barty and Rowle, but the rest of the day would be spent on mass producing the other dummies. Fortunately, once the first one was completed, the duplicates would be a lot faster.

– –

The next morning they had their usual morning workout followed by a shared shower that managed to de-evolve into an enthusiastic snogging session under the water. That was immediately followed by Harry finding himself pressed flat against the cold wet tile wall while Tom roughly held Harry's wrists over his head with one hand, while stroking his length with his other, and pounding into him from behind. All the while Harry moaned and gasped, screaming for _more, more,_ and _harder, _and _Yes! Yes! Yes! _and_ Oh Merlin, Fuck yes!_

The two had completed simultaneously with a cacophony of pleasure and sensation, which had become the norm, undoubtedly because of the link, and they then finished up the shower with a much slower and less frantic pace than everything had started. Harry was always amazed how delicately Tom treated him directly after sex. How reverently he held him, and caressed him. Especially since it was a significant contrast to how rough they usually were when they were intimate. Not that Harry minded the rough sex. He found he rather preferred it that way – although the one time that they'd gone slow had been... _wonderful_, as well.

The two finally exited the shower, dried off, got dressed, and went down to the dining room for breakfast. Mixey popped in with two copies of the Daily Prophet and Harry aimlessly trailed his eyes over the front page as he picked up a piece of toast. It froze mid-air before it even touched his lips as he saw the headline.

_HARRY POTTER, MISSING?_

_By Betty Braithwaite_

_It has come to the attention of this reporter through a trusted source from within the Ministry that The-Boy-Who-Lived has gone missing! No one except for a very select few know exactly where Harry Potter lives during the summers away from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as the dwelling is secreted away from the wizarding world to protect our boy-savior from those who would wish him harm, but it has long been rumored that Harry Potter's home is in the Muggle World with relatives of his muggleborn mother._

_One of those few people who are in-the-know of Harry Potter's summer living arrangements is Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, the man who is purportedly responsible for the boy's placement there, and my source tells me that in recent weeks the esteemed Headmaster has been trying to covertly track the Boy-Who-Lived down without drawing unwanted attention to the fact that young Harry Potter has slipped between his fingers. My source tells me that Mr. Potter apparently never returned to his muggle relatives home this summer, and has proven difficult to track down by even the Supreme Mugwump's most desperate measures, thus forcing him to resort to seeking the assistance of the Ministry of Magic. The Ministry's Department of Law Enforcement staff has been asked to report, as soon as possible, any sightings of the Boy-Who-Lived to Albus Dumbledore, and apparently several Aurors have been recruited in trying to track him down._

_Some would ask, what if Harry has been kidnapped by some of those mentioned who would wish him harm? However I would point out to those of you who would ask this that he was clearly perfectly healthy, and apparently quite happy when he made his surprise appearance in Diagon Alley little more than a week ago with that mysterious young man on his arm. Harry Potter did not appear to be there under duress or coercion, so it would seem that his absence from his relatives is not a situation that has occurred against his will._

_When asked to comment on Harry Potter's rumored absence, the Ministry's official spokesperson insisted that Mr. Potter is safe and secure in his relatives home and that there is nothing to worry about, but my source says otherwise. When I asked my source for his opinion on this he made his opinions quite clear on the matter, suggesting that Mr. Harry Potter is exerting his own rebellious side and wriggling his way out from underneath the oppressive thumb of Albus Dumbledore._

_I must tell you, my loyal readers, that this statement sparked quite a bit of my interest, and I'm sure it would spark yours as well, so I asked my source – why would Harry Potter want to rebel against Albus Dumbledore? While my source could not comment on any specifics, he suggested that perhaps the Boy-Who-Lived isn't quite as comfortable wth of his summer living arrangements as we have so often been led to believe. _

_Could Harry Potter's sudden absence be a sign of the Boy-Who-Lived rebelling against the great Headmaster of Hogwarts? And there are those who would question, what right does said headmaster have to dictate the Boy-Who-Lived summer living conditions anyway?_

_Important questions that must be asked, and need to be answered! I promise you, my faithful readers, that I will not rest until I have uncovered the truth behind this most fascinating story of intrigue. _

Harry reread the article twice before setting it down and frowning at his plate.

"Well this wasn't entirely unexpected," Tom said with a slightly annoyed sigh.

Harry looked up and blinked at Tom in mild confusion. "It's not?"

"I didn't honestly expect Dumbledore to recruit the Ministries official assistance so soon, but I knew it would happen eventually and that once it did happen it was only a matter of time before it was leaked. The Ministry is incapable of keeping anything secret. Even the Unspeakables are incapable of keeping _everything_ secret. I should know," he paused and smirked, "seeing as how I've got two among my followers and they're more than willing to share the details of their work with _me_."

Harry managed to smirk lightly before he sighed and looked back down at the paper. He picked up his toast again and began to slowly eat. Harry's eyes were distant and unfocused and Tom watched him with mild concern, but also curiosity. There was clearly something going on behind those bright green eyes.

"Tom..." Harry began slowly after the pair had sat and eaten in silence for at least ten minutes.

"Yes, love?" Tom said, looking up from the Daily Prophet that he had continued to read, and setting his fork down. Tom smirked slightly at the faint pink that appeared on Harry's cheeks and the way the corners of Harry's mouth turned up at the pet name.

"I was thinking," Harry began, going back to looking thoughtful, "What do you think about me milking this?"

Tom rose a single questioning eyebrow. "Explain."

"I'm talking about working the public opinion angle. What about me contacting that reporter and offering her an exclusive interview?"

"Go on."

– –

Harry wrote a couple letters while Tom worked on the dueling dummies down in the lab. One was to the Minister, asking for a slightly less public location for their meeting in two days, and another letter to the reporter from the Prophet. Once they were done, Tom read over them before Harry called in Mixey and sent her off with the letters.

Tom and Harry spent the majority of the day working on the dummies until it was finally time for Barty and Thorfinn Rowle to arrive.

Harry waited in the entry hall and greeted Barty when he arrived. Barty went on to the conference room where Tom was already waiting with all of the files on each of the individual Death Eaters and their skill levels, as well as the notes and plans that he had already made for the training classes. Harry stayed in the entry hall and waited for another two minutes before Thor showed up.

Harry nodded to the man as soon as he had his barrings again. "Rowle," Harry said in greeting.

"Harris," Thor replied with a curt nod of his head. He looked over Harry for the briefest of moments. Harry wasn't wearing black Death Eater robes, nor his mask. He was, of course, wearing his glamor ring, so to Rowle, Harry appeared his early-twenty-something self with long blond hair, tied back in a low pony tail, and bright blue eyes. He was wearing a casual front-open wizard robe of obviously fine quality that was a sort of deep-red color with intricate black threading along the collar and hems. Beneath the open over-robe, Harry had black slacks and a fitted black shirt that was rather tight against his skin with clean trim lines sewn into it.

Rowle had come in the standard black Death Eater robes, but his hood was down and he hadn't bothered with his mask.

"Feel free to call me Evan," Harry said easily as he turned and began to make his way towards the hallway.

"Alright," Rowle said as he quickly matched Harry's pace and walked just behind his right side. "Call me Thor, then."

Harry rose a single eyebrow, sightly amused by the shortened version of Thorfinn's name. "Fine by me."

They were quiet for a moment before Thor spoke again. "Forgive me for asking, but I'm curious where exactly _your_ dueling skills lie. I didn't see you participate in any of the duels during the meeting the other day."

"I'm fairly good, I guess. The Dark Lord has been personally training me for the last four months, so that's got to count for something, but I won't claim to be on par with someone whose been competing professionally for a decade."

Thor rose a single eyebrow but his eyes shown with a spark of intrigue. "Personal lessons from the Dark Lord, eh? I'd be lying if I claimed to not be curious as to how exactly you came to be in your unique position. Apprentice is what he called you, was it not?"

"That is correct. As for how I came to be in my position, it's a rather lengthy story. Let's just say that I played a crucial role in his return and call it good at that."

Thor did not look like 'leaving it at that' curbed his curiosity in the slightest, but they had reached the door of the conference room, so the man didn't have a chance to inquire further.

The meeting lasted a little over an hour and a half. They had managed to plan out exactly how the first few weeks of training sessions would progress in a fair amount of detail, and had a vague overview of what would be covered after that. Thor, Barty, and Harry were going to be both participants and instructors of the Advanced group, but would just be instructors for the two lesser groups. Fortunately, none of them had anywhere else to be during the summer, so there wouldn't be any conflicts in their schedules with the large number of classes.

The advanced group would only meet once a week, while the intermediate group would meet twice a week and the weaker group would meet three days a week. This only left one day a week where there wouldn't be a training session going on in the manor. Harry knew the remainder of his summer was going to be very full. At least the training would only take up one to two hours each day, and he had, had daily training for months anyway, so it wasn't that big a change.

– –

The next day Harry received replies from both the Minister and Betty Braithwaite, the reporter from the Daily Prophet. The Minister was perfectly fine with meeting somewhere less public and suggested a little coffee shop that was actually just a block from the Ministry of Magic building in downtown London. It was a _muggle_ coffee shop though, and it was rather rare for any witches or wizards to frequent the place.

Betty Braithwaite was _beyond ecstatic_ at the prospect of an exclusive interview with the elusive Boy-Who-Refused-to-Give-Interviews. Harry wrote back to suggest the time and location for their meeting. It would take place three hours after Harry's scheduled meeting with the Minister; and again, the meeting was arranged to take place in a muggle establishment in downtown London. In this case, they would be using a private meeting room at a local ritzy hotel several blocks down from the coffee shop.

Tom had recommended the place once he had learned about the London location for his meeting with the Minister, and while Harry finished preparing his letter back to Betty, Tom had apparated to London to arrange and pay for the room reservation.

That night was the first training session, and this one was for the lowest class group. It was entirely pathetic in Harry's mind, especially since quite a few of the people in attendance were older Death Eaters who had participated in the first war. Pettigrew was there, and Harry had taken a couple opportunities to 'demonstrate' different curses on the fat little bastard just for his own amusement.

The dummies were brought out and everyone was set to the task of shooting off curses at them. They were on the easiest setting. Totally immobile. Nothing more than targets, really. But half the people present seemed to have trouble hitting even an immobile target.

Pathetic.

Harry found himself sneering in disgust most of the night. Barty was equally unimpressed and Voldemort hung back, observing with an obvious air of angry discontent. If it weren't for Thor, it was unlikely that any of the pathetic excuses for wizards present would have left without suffering the _cruciatus_. Harry was definitely glad he'd suggested that Thor be included. It was obvious the man was used to teaching totally incompetent idiots. Rather, the man was used to teaching children who barely had a hold on their magic yet. Harry wondered which was worse to try and teach. 40-something-year old, fat, lazy, wizards with pathetic power levels, worthless spell repertoires, shitty aim, and oversized egos, or 10-year old children.

– –

The next day began as any other, and Harry and Tom went through their usual morning routine, had breakfast, got a little work done, and then went up to their bedroom to prepare for a day in muggle London. They both managed to find slacks and shirts that could pass for 'muggle-enough'. Tom was in smooth, loose black slacks, and a silken maroon long-sleeved button-down shirt. He left the top two buttons unbuttoned and Harry had smirked at the exposed bit of chest and his hand had twitched with the desire as he was filled with the urge to lick the pale skin he saw there.

Tom had sensed the lustful desires through the link, that had been steadily growing stronger the more time passed and had roughly claimed Harry's lips and slammed him against the wall. The pair had snogged rather heavily for a couple long minutes before they pulled apart, panting heavily, and grinning madly at each other. Harry pushed Tom away and walked over to his desk where he had a shirt and pants laid out over the back of his chair. He looked back and _laughed_ at the look on Tom's face. Tom actually looked like he was about to pout, but he quickly schooled his expression into a mild, teasing scowl, at Harry's obvious amusement.

Harry dressed in a pair of rather snug blue-jeans that he had purchased in Hogsmeade during the last school year. He loved how tight they were. It was such a contrast to the years and years of loose, poor-fitting, hand-me-downs from his fat whale of a cousin. In addition to the jeans, Harry had slipped on a snug black t-shirt, again, from his purchases in Hogsmeade.

After pulling the shirt over his head, Harry turned around to find Tom staring at him with hungry eyes, obviously pleased with what he saw. Harry laughed, causing Tom's eyes to smile back at him. Harry loved that look. It was a look that Harry knew _only he_ ever got to see. True, happy, smiling eyes. With a small crinkle of crowsfeet at the corners, and that spark of amusement that wasn't cruel or sadistic in any way. A happiness that Harry never saw in the man's face at any other point in time. That look was just for him.

In the end it seemed a miracle that the pair of them managed to leave the manor on time, considering how many times they had gotten distracted.

Tom, once again, had on his glamor ring, and was wearing the appearance of Nicodemus Tomaras, Harry's 'mystery boyfriend', while Harry had his ring removed.

Around the manor Harry rarely bothered to do anything special with his hair, that had been growing at an oddly accelerated rate as of late. Tom suspected it was because a part of Harry _wanted_ his hair to grow longer now, so it was. Harry had mentioned, at that point, about how through most of his youth, his hair had always remained at the same length. How he had gone _years_ without even needing a haircut. He had also told Tom the story about the time when he was rather young and his bitch of a muggle aunt had shaved his head, but that by morning it had all grown back.

Tom had gotten a curious look in his eyes from listening to this story and seemed to be contemplating something. When Harry asked what it was he had shaken it off, suggesting that it wasn't terribly important yet, and he needed to look into some things so they could deal with it later.

But for the trip to London, Harry had finally bothered to do something with his messy long black hair. He had chin-length hair framing his face, while the hair on the back was about halfway down his neck. Harry used some light gel to force the hair in the front back over his head, not bothering with any sort of part, and tying the longest bits in the back into a very small tail.

Now the two of them were walking down the streets of muggle London, making their way towards the coffee shop. They were early by about twenty minutes and sat down in the coffee shop by the front window and sat there, looking out onto the street, people-watching. Mostly Tom just scoffed and snickered at the pathetic masses as they rushed through their daily muggle lives. Harry couldn't help but snicker and laugh at most of what Tom said.

Honestly, it was true. They were so ignorant of the things going on around them. So blind. And _so weak_. It would be so easily to just –

"Harry, my boy! There you are!" the sound of Cornelius Fudge's voice pulled Harry out of his musings and he jerked up and swiftly turned his head. "Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long!" Fudge continued as Harry stood up and greeted the Minister for Magic while insisting that he hadn't been waiting all that long, and he really hadn't minded the wait, anyway. He introduced Fudge to 'Nicodemus' again, and Fudge had actually asked (albeit reluctantly) if Nick would like to join them for their tea.

'Nick' had refused, saying that this was a meeting scheduled between Harry and the Minister and that he would be back later. He stood up, bent over and gave Harry a quick kiss before whispering in Harry's ear that he would remain close by, before he righted himself again and said goodbye to the Minister.

Harry knew that Tom would just change his glamor and come back into the coffee shop and sit towards the back. He would be casting privacy charms for them as well as listening in.

Harry quickly refocused on the Minister and the two ordered drinks.

While making small talk with the Minister, Harry mentioned how curious it was to him that it was already July 23rd, and he still had yet to receive his letter and supply list from Hogwarts. He expected it any day, of course, but it would have been convenient for it to have arrived already so that he could get his shopping done while he was in London.

The Minister replied with a dramatic roll of his eyes, explaining that the list couldn't be sent out to the students until all of the teachers had turned in their book lists, but since Hogwarts was still short one Defense teacher, that wasn't yet possible. He then went on a rant about how Dumbledore was utterly incapable of keeping his staff consistent. _Every year_, the man ranted, _the defense position ends up empty! Every year!_ He did pause long enough to put on a mock sadness over the last defense professor's unexpected demise before resuming his grumblings about Dumbledore.

He bemoaned the complaints he often got from the Department for Magical Education about the pathetic test results that were coming out of Hogwarts students in the Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL and NEWT tests. But who could blame the students for abysmal results in a subject when they were subjected to a new incompetent teacher every single year!

Harry enthusiastically agreed with the Minister, grumbling about the pathetic education he had received so far in the subject, and how much he had, had to put in extra study on his own in order to prepare for the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

Fudge then spent a short bit of time enthusing about Harry's impressive performance, especially for someone so young and who had, had to deal with such unfortunately unsatisfactory education on the subject.

Fudge went on to say that, apparently, Dumbledore had yet to even receive any applicants for the Defense job, nor had he managed to con anyone he had sought out into accepting the job. Apparently there was some ridiculous superstition about the position being cursed. Fudge guffawed, saying that Dumbledore was just incompetent at hiring for the post.

Harry had chuckled and egged the Minister on at every opportunity.

Conversation then managed to move onto the article that had been printed in the Prophet a couple days earlier about Harry being missing. Fudge had, apparently, assumed that the reporter was just spouting garbage, since he had heard no such thing about Harry Potter being _missing_, and certainly nothing about Auror assistance being called in by Dumbledore, but he had then gone into the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and managed to force someone to admit that it was in fact _true. _Dumbledore had discreetly come to them and had the assistance of a select few individuals that he apparently trusted more than others.

Harry suggested to the Minister that he find out exactly who these 'trusted individuals' were and keep a close watch on them. They could be dangerous. Fudge fervently agreed with that observation, but went on to confront Harry with his supposed 'missing' status.

Harry explained that he had gotten _permission_ from his muggle relatives to spend the summer with Nick, and he was most certainly _not missing._ The supposed problem was that he had refused to tell Dumbledore where he was going because, quite simply, it was none of his damn business.

Fudge had smirked, smugly, at this.

Harry went on, at that point, to complain for a while about all the various meddling that Dumbledore was constantly trying to do with Harry's private life. Always trying to weasel his way in and control the Boy-Who-Lived, both inside and outside of school. That the man seemed to believe that it was his right to dictate what Harry did, even when he _wasn't_ at Hogwarts, and the headmaster had absolutely no jurisdiction or legal hold over Harry.

Sure, while he was _at Hogwarts_, Dumbledore was his magical guardian since he had no one else in the magical world to fill the responsibility, but once school was no longer in session, Harry was the sole responsibility of his muggle guardians, and if they said that Harry could go stay with a friend, then Harry could go stay with a friend.

Fudge seemed properly pleased that Harry was trying to step out from beneath Albus Dumbledore's overbearing shadow, and told Harry he would do whatever he could to help Harry in his quest to stay where he saw fit over the summer, as long as it was properly safe.

Their meeting came to a close and Harry stood and shook the Minister's hand, thanking him for his time. As soon as Fudge was out the door and gone from sight, Harry was joined by a young man who, while physically was totally foreign to Harry, magically, he was more familiar than anyone else.

"Be right back," the glamored Tom whispered into Harry's ear before making his way into the cafe's bathroom. When he exited a moment later, he was in his Nicodemus glamor, although since Harry was keyed into it, he only saw the real Tom beneath it, and the pair left to do some light shopping while gradually making their way towards th hotel where Harry had his appointment with a certain Daily Prophet reporter.

– –


	8. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary: Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta Pass by tannne

AN:  21 page long chapter.

_Maris: why a group of graduates from Durmstrang speak English among themselfs. _

- Yeeaaahh... let's just call that author's prerogative to ignore logic. ;)

To Tonks and Dark Lady Voldemort about the review from 'Alex' - no worries. I basically just read his review and lol'd. He's nothing more than a small-minded idiot. It was obvious that the person didn't actually read any of the story, he probably just hunts down any stories with an HP/LV pairing and spam reviews. It's certainly not going to bother me.

Quite a few asked about Thorfinn and the DADA position, but I'm just going to say that you'll have to wait and see. ;) (Although I will admit that the foreshadowing was fairly obvious - lol)

_Lady Logos: I don't get where you get the motivation, inspiration in general and ideas for this story, or stories in general, that has been my weak spot for a very long time. Give a tip, please? :)_

- Not sure what sort of tips I could possibly give ^^; My brain is a bit crazed when it comes to stories and writing. Last night I wrote 26 pages of a plot-bunny that refused to go away until I wrote it down. It'd been gnawing at the back of my brain for about two months now and I finally just wrote it, to get it to leave me alone. lol... Other times I can go days without being able to get anything written. Oh – and then there are days where I really really want to write, but my kids and my husband require my time instead.

Oh yeah – and I have a full-time job. lol... honestly, even _I_ don't know how I manage to write as much as I do.

And on with the chapter...

– –

Chapter 7

Two days later, Harry's interview with Betty Braithwaite appeared in the Prophet. The front cover of the Prophet had a photograph of Harry sitting beside 'Nicodemus', with Nick's arm wrapped around Harry's shoulder. Harry would periodically turn his head and look at the other boy and smile brightly before ducking his head and grinning while Nick looked down at him and laughed lightly. It was taken in the private room of the hotel where they had met with the reporter. Beside the photo was the intro blurb of the article, and then it said 'continued on page 2-5'. It had turned out to be a rather _long_ interview, but the Prophet had been more than enthusiastic to print the whole thing and Harry was sure that Betty had gotten quite a pretty commission out of the piece. It would likely sell a _ton_ of papers.

The headline read:

_EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH HARRY POTTER_

_By Betty Braithwaite_

Before the actual interview had even commenced, Harry and Tom had put the young reporter through a vigorous grilling session of her own. Tom had learned through his sources that Betty had basically been Rita's personal trainee. Betty idolized the late Rita Skeeter and had been quite devastated by her mysterious disappearance. Not that she hadn't instantly latched onto the opportunity to fill the missing reporter's shoes and take over her regular column when given the opportunity.

Harry and Betty had struck an agreement that he was willing to go to Betty with all future journalistic endeavors of his _so long_ as he was pleased with the results of their little encounter that day. Betty was not to under _any circumstances_ report anything about Harry without contacting him first to at least ask for his comment on the matter, and she was not to intentionally misquote him, or ever take something he had said out of context with the intent of leading people to incorrect conclusions. He also insisted that she avoid any malicious gossip about his 'friends' without consulting him first. He made sure to emphasize that he wasn't requiring that she write nothing about his school friends, just that he be informed before hand and be allowed to make adjustments or contribute details.

As long as she stuck to these rules, Harry agreed to make Betty his exclusive journalistic contact and promised her more interviews and information in the future.

Betty, seeing the incredible opportunity for what it was, quickly agreed. Every gossip journalists' dream come true was to be a celebrity's exclusive contact, and to be _Harry Potter's_ contact was an opportunity that she would have to be a _fool_ to pass up.

And so the interview had commenced.

_**Betty Braithwaite:**__ Mr. Potter, I would like to start by thanking you for your willingness to answer my questions._

_**Harry Potter:**__ Don't mention it Betty, and please, call me Harry._

_**BB:**__ I would also like to thank you for contacting me, I must admit, it was quite a surprise to get your owl._

_**HP: **__Well, after I saw your article in the Prophet about my supposed status as 'missing' I thought it would be a good idea to clear some things up. I certainly didn't want anyone to worry needlessly about me._

_**BB:**__ Speaking of which, what do you have to say on the subject? Are you, in fact, 'missing?'_

_(Harry laughed)_

_**HP: **__Hardly. The truth of the matter is that, towards the end of the last school year, I arranged to stay with a good friend of mine, rather than return to my muggle relatives house._

_**BB:**__ If that's the case, why would Albus Dumbledore be secretly trying to track you down, and filling Ministry Auror's heads with fears of their boy savior having been abducted?_

_**HP:**__ Probably because I refused to tell the headmaster where I'm staying – not that it's really his or anyone else's business where I choose to spend my summer holidays. As long as I've got permission from my legal guardians, that's all that matters, and my guardians were more than eager to be rid of me, seeing as how they basically despise the air I breath._

_**BB:**__ I'm afraid that I simply must ask you to clarify that last part. And why, aside from you not feeling like it being the venerated headmaster's concern, have you refused to disclose your current living arrangements to him?_

_**HP: **__Well, both answers are basically one and the same. The reason I wouldn't tell Professor Dumbledore where I'm staying is because I know he'd come find me and drag me back to my relatives house, no matter what they, or I, had to say on the matter, but I simply refuse to go back. I can't stand them, and they can't stand me. I want nothing to do with going back there, and they want nothing to do with me coming back. They were more than eager to grant me 'permission' to spend my summer holiday elsewhere. _

_**BB: **__What could possibly have led to such an unhappy relationship between you and your muggle family?_

_(Harry scoffed)_

_**HP: **__Those people hardly qualify as family. My maternal aunt – a muggle – hated my mum, and was incredibly jealous about my mum being a witch. She was so angry and jealous that she ended up overcompensating and developed a deep seeded hatred for all things magical. She and her muggle husband considered magic evil and unnatural and they spent my entire youth trying to 'beat the freakishness out of me'. That's a quote, by the way. They hated getting saddled with me, and only did it because Dumbledore basically threatened them if they refused. My aunt did nothing but tell me, my whole youth, that I was nothing more than a stupid, worthless, freak, while my uncle beat me every chance he got. They also lied to me my whole life. They never once told me I was a wizard, even though they knew, and they even told me that my parents died in a drunk driving accident – it's a muggle thing involving automobiles. Think of lethally splinching yourself while apparating drunk._

_It wasn't until I got my Hogwarts letter at age eleven that I learned about magic, and even then they tried for more than a week to prevent me from getting my letter. They burned every letter that came in and finally ran from the house, taking me with them to try and escape the owls. It wasn't until Hagrid showed up in person that I finally got my letter, and even then my uncle threatened Hagrid with a shotgun – not like it would do any good._

_(Editors note: 'Hagrid' is Rubeus Hagrid, the Groundskeeper and current Care of Magical Creatures Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry)_

_But back before all that, while I was growing up, any time I performed any accidental magic my uncle beat me, they locked me in a boot cupboard under the stairs, and wouldn't feed me for a week. For years they had me convinced that it was all my fault. That I really was a freak. That I had somehow done something to deserve the way they treated me. That it was because I really was unnatural that they treated me so horribly while they treated their own son wonderfully and spoiled him rotten. I mean, I __had__ to have done something to deserve it. I just couldn't understand why they would be so horrible to me, and only me. Even after I learned the truth and went to Hogwarts, some of those beliefs and fears stuck with me. That I really was a good-for-nothing worthless freak. It's taken four years for me to finally come to terms with everything and see what they did for what it was. Child abuse. There was never anything wrong with me. __They__ were the ones that were wrong. What they did was not only morally and ethically wrong, it was illegal, and disgusting. They're the worst sort of people, and I refuse to ever set foot in their home again. No matter what Dumbledore or anyone else says._

_**BB: **__(I must tell you, my readers, that I was thoroughly stunned at this point and had to take a moment to compose myself!)____Harry, that is absolutely terrible. To think that our boy savior was left in the care of such terrible people is just horrifying. I cannot imagine what Dumbledore was thinking! But surely now, if you simply told him the truth about your living situation, he would never insist that you return there!_

_**HP:**__ That's just the thing, Betty. He knows. I've told him. Even one of my friends at Hogwarts went to him and our head of house and tried to bring the situation to his attention, but he still insisted that my aunt's home is the only place that I'm safe. There are powerful wards and protections there that have to be tied to a blood relative, that prevent anyone with ill intent, or with the Dark Mark from nearing the house. The thing is that even if I accept that in that house I'm safe from Dark Wizards, I'm still not safe from my muggle uncle, and since I'm still underage and I'm not allowed to use magic during the summers, I have no way of defending myself. Besides, I would argue that where I'm staying right now has wards and protections just as effective as any placed upon my muggle guardian's home, which has been proven by the fact that even Headmaster Dumbledore cannot find me while I'm there._

_**BB: **__It's stunning, if not completely horrifying to think that Albus Dumbledore could be aware of such abuse and still insist that you go back!_

_**HP: **__It's something I've grown accustomed to over the years. I tried telling teachers about how my relatives treated me back when I was in primary school, but nothing good ever came out of it. I think I have a bit of a magical healing factor that speeds up my recovery from nasty physical damage. On one hand, it's probably saved my life since it let me recover even after my uncle beat the crap out of me and left me broken and bloody in my cupboard – since there was no way that they'd ever take me to get medical treatment. But on the other hand, it also meant that I recovered so quickly from the beatings that all the proof of them was gone by the time any authority figures were brought in. So everyone always just accused me of lying or trying to get attention or besmirch my relatives 'good names'. So after a while I just gave up. I stopped trying to get help. Adults have never helped me. I always had to help myself. That's how it's always been for me. That's why I set up my summer arrangements on my own, and in secret. _

_**BB: **__I must say, you are a very brave young man, Harry. I'm curious as to why you've decided to come forward about all of this now, then?_

_**HP: **__It's sort of a catharsis for me. I'm trying to work through a lot of personal issues that have been troubling me for a long time. Really coming to terms with the fact that it really __wasn't my fault__. You know? _

_**BB: **__That's a very mature and impressive thing of you. What other things are you doing as a part of this 'healing' of yours?_

_**HP: **__Well, I'm not actively doing a lot. I'm just trying to enjoy my summer right now. It's been absolutely brilliant actually. Unquestionably the best summer I've ever had._

_**BB: **__Is that so? And why would that be, exactly?_

_(Harry laughed)_

_**HP: **__Well, for one thing, I'm not with my relatives. I'm not being treated worse than a house elf, being beaten, or constantly being told I'm a worthless piece of filthy trash. But even beyond the whole thing, I'm also staying with Nick._

_**BB: **__And who, might I ask, is Nick?_

_**HP: **__My boyfriend. _

_**BB: **__Ah, so I guess this confirms the article that came out last January, suggesting that our boy-who-lived does in fact prefer the company of the same sex?_

_(Harry laughed again)_

_**HP: **__Yes, Betty. I fancy boys, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. That was another part of the whole catharsis thing, I guess. Really coming to terms with who I am and being okay with that. Not being ashamed or feeling like I need to hide it or that I need to pretend to be something I'm not just to meet other people's expectations. I'm just moving forward with my head held high. Proud of who I am and what I've accomplished. Not all that 'boy-who-lived' rubbish, because I was a baby when that happened, and honestly, I don't remember a bit of it and don't think it counts. But I won the Tri-Wizard Tournament on my own merits, and no one else's. I'm proud of that. I'm actually in a pretty happy place, mentally and emotionally right now, and I'd have to say that Nick is a big part of that. He helped me through a lot of difficult stuff._

_**BB: **__Can we get any details on this mysterious 'Nick'?_

_**HP: **__While I'm sure that people would make a real effort at using any information I give out about him, to try and track me down, I'm also pretty confident in the wards around the house we're in. It's unplottable, anti-owl, anti-apparition, anti-portkey, anti-tracking – the whole slew and more. And a lot of them are really ancient wards. Plus, Nick himself has said that he has no desire to hide anymore either. He's not ashamed of being gay, and doesn't care who finds out. So, anyway, his name is Nicodemus Tomaras and he's 17. He was home-schooled, so he never went to Hogwarts or any of the other magical schools. His guardian died last fall and he moved to Hogsmeade where he rented a small cottage and worked part-time at Honeydukes while studying on his own for his NEWTs. He took them this spring and got all Os, actually. I'm really proud of him. I'll be honest and admit to having snuck out of the castle a time or two. Last Halloween when my name came out of the Goblet of Fire, things got really bad for me at school. I say now that I'm proud of the fact that I manged to win, but that doesn't mean that it still doesn't upset me that I was forced to compete. I never entered my name in the tournament, and I'm underage. I never should have been forced into that position._

_While things were especially bad, I slipped out of the castle a time or two and that's how I met Nick. He got me. He understood me in ways that pretty much no one else does. He never treated me special or different. I was never The-Boy-Who-Lived to him. I was just Harry, and he believed me when I said I hadn't put my name in for the tournament – and at the time, even my 'best friends' didn't believe me, so it was a relief to have a friendly face._

_I didn't sneak out much that year. Just a few times here and there. Mostly we wrote letters back and forth. We didn't become romantically involved until a few months before the last task, actually. We were just friends up until then. In fact, he offered me the chance to stay at his ancestral home over the summer, even before we became romantically involved._

_**BB: **__That's an amazing story, Harry. Thank you for sharing it. Now, I'm curious about your appearance in Diagon Alley earlier this summer. The surprising tea you shared with the Minister for Magic caused quite a stir. Is there a story behind such a meeting?_

_**HP: **__Nothing too much behind the meeting. He and I chatted briefly the day of the last task and he asked if I would like to have tea at some point over the summer, and I agreed. He sent me a letter a week into the summer with a time and place and I agreed._

_**BB: **__There are some whisperings going about that you may actually pursue a political career after Hogwarts. Is there any merit to these rumors?_

_**HP: **__I can't really say for sure since I'm only just about to go into my fifth year and I could always change my mind or decide to pursue other interests, but right now I do think I want to get into politics after Hogwarts. I'd like to try and get some laws changed. The one that prevents students from using magic during the holidays would be one of the first I would try to get repealed. Perhaps there could still be restrictions on it, but not the 'no magic at all' rule that exists now. Countries like France, Spain, Greece and Italy all allow their children age eleven and up limited use of magic, even when away from school. I think we should follow that pattern._

_Magical students need to be able to practice their magic during the summer months anyway, but those of us who have to go back and live in the muggle world need it for self defense as well. We need the ability to protect ourselves since we're alone in the muggle world with no one to back us up._

_**BB: **__You sound like you don't have a lot of trust for muggles. So this isn't a feeling limited just to your relatives, but muggles in general?_

_**HP: **__I'll be honest. I don't have a lot of trust in many muggles. I mean, I lived among nothing but muggles for ten years and I can't name you a single one I liked or trust. I mean, I'm sure there are some that are nice enough people, but with most of them, that's because they're ignorant of the magical world. They are happy keeping themselves deluded and in the dark. What about those that do know about magic, but are afraid of it? Muggles that hate it? Or muggles that are jealous and covet it? People like my relatives saw magic as something evil. Something that needed to be beaten out of me. Without magic, I have no defense against them. _

_With the decade of starvation, I grew up to be rather scrawny and my uncle is huge. This last year I finally hit my first significant magical growth spurt, but even with it, he could still easily overpower me physically. During summer after my first year at Hogwarts, when my relatives didn't know that I wasn't allowed to perform magic at home, they were scared enough of what I could maybe do to them that they actually left me alone for half the summer. Unfortunately at the end of July a house elf showed up in their house to warn me about something and to try and keep me from going back to Hogwarts in the fall so he used a levitation charm that registered on the Ministries Trace and I got a howler warning me about magical use outside of school. My relatives heard it and once my uncle realized that I really was still helpless everything got so much worse. It was an awful time. If I really had magic to defend myself, I would have been okay. I didn't even have to use it, but with them thinking that I __could__, it was enough of a deterrent for them to stop hitting me._

_The simple fact is that if there is one case of something happening, there are always others. What about muggleborn students who's muggle family don't understand, or like magic? What about the really religious ones who think that magic is an affront against god, or devil worshiping? There are recorded reports of muggleborn children being forced through exorcisms at the hands of their 'family' because they were convinced that the children were evil. I'm sure many of your readers aren't very aware of them, but muggle exorcisms are horrible, terrifying things that could permanently scar a kid. Some people could be physically abusive like my relatives were, but some might just use psychological abuse. Both are just as damaging to a child who can't defend themselves._

_And what about magical children who have to live in muggle orphanages? The last war created loads of orphans, and I know a couple at Hogwarts in other years who currently have to live in the muggle world in group homes because the magical world doesn't have any infrastructure for handling orphans. If a magical child's parents die and they don't have family to take them in, they end up in the muggle system instead. The way we handle magical orphans is probably the second biggest thing that__ I'd try to get changed if I could. And as the last of the Potter line, I will inherit a seat on the Wizengamot once I turn seventeen, and I intend to use it. So even if I don't get a job with the Ministry, I'm still going to take my place in the Wizengamot._

_**BB: **__Really? That's quite ambitious for someone so young._

_**HP: **__There are some seriously flawed things about how the magical world interacts with the muggle one. I think that the Ministry should set up a magical children home system. A group home or foster care system perhaps, with willing magical families who are interested and able to take in more children and help raise them so that they're prepared to live in the magical world. And not just for magical orphans, but also for muggleborn witches and wizards who want to escape the muggle world._

_I think that magical children should be identified and visited at a much earlier age. The Ministry already identifies them with their first incident of accidental magic, but we don't approach them until their school-age. Waiting until they're eleven is too late! Violent muggles who are scared and confused by their children's bursts of accidental magic could cause a tremendous amount of damage to their magical children if they're kept ignorant. Even the ones that aren't violent or abusive on purpose would be much better equipped to raise their magical children if they knew what they were earlier._

_Not only should magical children be identified early, I also think that regular visits should be made to make sure that the kids aren't being abused or mistreated._

_**BB: **__From the way you speak, you sound like you suspect every muggle with a magical child could be angry and abusive?_

_**HP: **__Of course not. Not everyone is going to be like that. Obviously there are loads of muggle parents out there who love their children and care a great deal for them. But that doesn't mean that it's okay for us to let the others slip through the cracks._

_Fear drives people, Betty. Fear of the unknown, and of things that people don't understand. Muggles who are afraid of their magical children will mistreat them, and muggles are very good at being afraid of things. That's all I'm saying. I think that if a muggleborn student wants to get away from the muggle world, they should be able to stay in the magical world, in some place that's safe and with people who will care for them properly. There should be a place for them to go. The Ministry needs to establish a foster care system of some sort, as well as conducting regular visits to muggleborn homes. And no magical orphan should ever end up in the care of muggles. A muggle orphanage is no place for a magical child. They are simply not equipped to handle them._

_**BB: **__You clearly have some very strong opinions on this matter, Harry._

_**HP: **__I do._

_**BB: **__Quite a few of these ideas seem to go rather counter to the ideals that Albus Dumbledore and other key figures have been trying to promote for quite some time now._

_**HP: **__Dumbledore's politics are not my own. And no one put these ideas in my head. I came to my own conclusions. I refused to allow myself to be kept ignorant anymore. It didn't seem right to me that Dumbledore could force me to return to the Dursley's every summer, despite how they treat me. However as far as I knew my first three years at Hogwarts, I had to listen to him because he was an adult and an authority figure._

_But I started to realize that, while he had authority over me while I'm at school, legally, he has no authority over me, personally, when I'm not. I'd been led to believe that he had some say over where I had to stay, but I wasn't willing to take that at face value anymore, so I began doing research into the way the magical world's government and children rights works. It was through my own research and reading that I came to my conclusions about magical and muggleborn children's rights. It was also how I came to realize that his so-called guardianship over me is only valid while school is in session. During the holidays, he has no jurisdiction over me._

_**BB:**__ And thus you're little disappearing act._

_(Harry grinned at me)_

_**HP: **__Exactly._

– –

Tom set the paper down after having finally finished the lengthy interview and took a sip of his morning tea.

"You really are quite ingenious, Harry," he said with a smirk, looking up at Harry through his eyelashes. The piercing eyes and wickedly curled lips sent a gleeful shudder down Harry's spine that he had to suppress quickly. He grinned back and shrugged, slightly bashful.

"It'll get people on my side. Get them thinking. Open their minds to some of our more _friendly_ ideals. It'll open the gateway without them even realizing it." Harry said, nonchalantly.

"Yes, but you're still going to have to deal with some backlash from this. Not everyone is going to be happy with several of the things you said here. Dumbledore, especially. You've likely put him into a very sticky situation with the accusations that he's forced you to keep returning to an abusive home, knowing full well how bad they were."

Harry shrugged. "I suppose, but I think I can handle any backlash, and I'm sure the old goat will probably manage to weasel his way out of it. I think it's worth it though. It's so politically incorrect right now to talk _bad_ about muggles. The purebloods do it in the privacy of their little circles, but out in the open it's taboo to talk bad about them. Instead, the only publicly 'okay' thing to propose is increasing the mingling between magic and muggles. Increasing muggle rights and respect, and increasing the risks of our exposure, as a result.

"But I bring it up like this, and I'm perfectly justified in it because I've had a family of muggles routinely beat the shit out of me for a decade. No one can badmouth me for talking about taking muggleborns away from abusive muggle parents. No one can vocally stand against a proposition to _protect our children_ without looking horrible in the public eye. It's perfect. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if several politicians take up my cause and try to enact some of this shit for me. And I bet Fudge would put anything on the fast track, and back any bill just to make himself look good, and to show his support for the poor abused Boy-Who-Lived." Harry finished with a wicked smirk.

Tom chuckled. "I may actually get a few people working on that, actually..."

"Only the ones that the Order still hasn't labeled as Death Eaters though," Harry added in.

"Of course."

– –

Harry had a flood of letters the next day. All of his 'friends' had written him; Hermione's being the most vocal. She was clearly upset and a bit offended at how out of the loop she apparently was. She had just gotten back to Britain, and managed to get a few back issues of the Prophet to try and catch up on things, and had come to discover both issues about Harry. It seemed she was having trouble bouncing back and forth between being angry _for _Harry at his horrible relatives; angry at Dumbledore for insisting Harry had to go back; angry at Harry for not telling her most of this sooner; angry at Harry for having her find this stuff out from the _Prophet_ of all places; and being mildly hurt about his comments about muggles. She also pointed out that his description of Nick's life didn't exactly mesh with what he'd told her the previous spring.

She seemed willing to forgive Harry's views on muggles since he did have a point about the fact that if there is one case of something happening, there's always more. If there are other children suffering the way Harry had suffered, there should be a place that they could turn to – and since Dumbledore was obviously not apt to doing anything about it, the Ministry should. She also, apparently, had, had a few letters waiting for her from Professor Dumbledore and the Weasley's about staying somewhere for the majority of August and told Harry that she would get back to him when she had more information about what _that_ was about.

Harry had a letter from Dumbledore that he set aside to read last. He had a letter from Betty Braithwaite, thanking him for taking the time to speak with her and reminding him, not so subtly, that she was there and available anytime he wanted another interview. There were letters from several people who were apparently 'old friends' of his parents from their school days who were just appalled at what they had read and informing him that they had all made offers to take him in after his parents had died, but Dumbledore had refused them all, insisting that Harry was somewhere safe. Many of them made renewed offers, saying that they would be more than eager to welcome him into their homes.

Then there were the ones that he _knew_ were not 'friends' of his parents, but who were making similar offers out of what he would guess was desire for political or financial gain. After all, a legal guardian of Harry's would probably have access to the Potter trust vault, at the very least, and if they gained his trust, they would have influence over a wizengamot seat, and the Boy-Who-Lived.

There were also quite a few letters expressing their sadness for Harry and his unfortunate childhood circumstances. But what really surprised Harry were the letters from muggleborn witches and wizards who had experienced similar treatment. Having muggle parents and families who didn't understand, were jealous, or were just fundamentally frightened by the magical world, and their child's magical nature. Quite a few who had suffered from either physical or emotional abuse at the hands of frightened muggle relatives, and remarked on having also felt trapped during the summer months when they had no choice but to return to the muggle world and their abusive families, and feeling helpless without access to their magic.

Every letter that he had received from a muggleborn on this subject, he wrote back asking them if they would be willing to share their story with the public in an effort to push forward the effort to change the magical government's current policy regarding magical children living in the muggle world. He wasn't entirely sure where he was going with this, but it seemed promising at the very least.

Tom had gotten oddly quiet as he read through the letters. His face remained stoic and he held his blank mask rather well, but Harry could feel turbulent emotions bubbling through the connection they shared.

Harry knew that Tom had a _lot_ of policies that he intended to change, totally rewrite, and flat-out repeal from the current way the magical government of Britain was run, once he was in control, and that of all of his policy changes, his stance on magical children was the most public-friendly of them. So it was easy to introduce those ideas to the public first. But Harry also knew that their shared opinion on how magical and muggleborn children interacted with the muggle world was a very important and personal issue for Tom.

In addition to the mountain of letters, that morning copy of the Daily Prophet proved to be interesting as well. The front page headline read:

_PUBLIC OUTRAGE OVER TREATMENT OF BOY-WHO-LIVED!_

It was basically snippets from letters the Prophet had received from various sources, as well as short interviews conducted with random people they approached on Diagon Alley, and interviews with several political figures. It had a rather wonderful amount of Dumbledore bashing for Harry's tastes and he sat there reading the article cackling at the various jabs at Dumbledore's credibility, sanity, and senility. There were even a few calls for his resignation from Hogwarts or the Wizengamot! Tom seemed equally amused and pleased by the outcome.

There was another article calling for a formal investigation to be started into any criminal charges that could be brought up against Harry's relatives but that their names and the location of their home was kept secret even from the Ministry and that Dumbledore was refusing to release the information, stating that Harry was still officially a resident and the legal charge of his muggle relatives and to release that information could put him at risk should he ever choose to return to them – which again, caused even more accusations to be called against Dumbledore. Suggestions were made that Dumbledore was refusing to give up the muggles to protect his own hide since he could be found criminally negligent for knowingly allowing Harry Potter to be left in an abusive home, and for lying to the Ministry when he repeatedly insisted that where Harry was being kept was somewhere safe.

In the end, Harry had a very full day, writing responses to the letters that actually deemed responses necessary. Even to those that didn't necessarily need responses, he wrote simple 'thank you for your sympathy' letters to keep with a positive public opinion of his 'cause'.

Dumbledore's letter was filled with disapproving and frequent comments to being disappointed in Harry's choices regarding this matter. Harry scoffed and sneered his way through reading most of it. Dumbledore concluded with another pleading session, asking Harry to please tell Dumbledore where he was, or to at least agree to a meeting, perhaps in Diagon Alley. Harry barked out a laugh at that offer, since he had no doubt that Dumbledore would probably try to force Harry to return with him, the second he met with the man in person.

Dumbledore did at least seem to be giving in on the Dursley issue, saying that Harry wouldn't even have to return to them for the summer and that he could instead come and stay at the headquarters of his organization.

Harry was a bit surprised that Dumbledore had admitted to even having an 'organization', even if the old man hadn't actually said its name or admitted what it was for. Dumbledore added that the Weasleys would be staying there for all of August and that he had extended an invitation to Hermione as well.

Harry responded with a very short, succinct response that basically said, '_No_, but thanks for the offer.'

Anything longer and Harry knew he'd get snippy and say some things he was really much better off not saying to the Lord of the Light; especially considering that he still had to go back to Hogwarts in the fall.

– –

That night was the first of the advanced training classes to be held at the manor. It was _fortunately _a rather large group, and quite a few arrived a little early. The group slowly trickled in over the span of 20 minutes, and filled the ballroom as they came. Tom was still up in his study going through some complex calculations for a few magical objects he was working on, and wouldn't be coming down until just as the session was scheduled to begin. Harry and Barty were both already down in the ballroom waiting, and knew exactly what was expected, and could easily get things started without him.

Harry casually strolled around the grand ballroom as the assembled Death Eaters mingled. Many of them seemed to be treating it as some sort of social gathering at the moment and he found it interesting to see them with their guards down a bit. Voldemort wasn't in the room, and there was still about fifteen minutes until the training session was scheduled to start. For understandable reasons, many of the Death Eaters knew each other outside of their service of the Dark Lord, and many clearly considered this a 'masks off' affair – although there were still quite a few in the full garb.

Harry had chosen to go semi-casual for the event. He wasn't even wearing his half-mask. He was dressed, once again, in an open outer robe over slacks and a fitted high-collared wizard's shirt. He didn't like fighting in long flowing robes because he thought they got in the way, but acknowledged the need to train in the long robes because he wore them more often than not and wouldn't always have the opportunity to discard them in the heat of battle. But that was another reason he preferred to wear an over-robe with more tight-fitting clothes beneath. It was easy to discard an over-robe.

In any case, the lack of his distinguishing mask meant that most of those present hadn't realized who exactly he was. Harry took advantage of this fact as he wandered the large open space, covertly listening on the conversations of various groups of gathered wizards and witches.

"...but what could he be up to? Why in Merlin's name would Dumbledore leave Potter with abusive muggles?" a man was saying. Harry glanced over. He knew the man was named Walter Gibbon, but he didn't know much more about him.

"Maybe he really didn't know? I don't know; I've never claimed to understand how that man's mind works," a very familiar drawl bit back from the cloaked and masked figure beside him. Harry would recognize that voice anywhere and knew instantly that it was Snape. "I can see him putting Potter with muggles in hopes of the boy developing a love for them. Obviously that didn't happen here."

"Yeah, but Potter said that Dumbledore _knew _he was getting abused but still made him go back," Gibbon said.

"Potter could be _lying." _Snape said with a sarcastic drawl that seemed to scream '_obviously, you idiot'_.

"But why would he? Why would he risk pissing off Albus Dumbledore?"

"He's just an attention-seeking little brat. It's all he's ever been," Snape sneered.

"Perhaps Dumbledore wanted the boy broken," a newcomer added in, coming to stand beside the other two. Harry was pretty sure this one was named Geoffrey Urquhart. He was wearing black Death Eater robes, but had his hood down and no mask.

"What's that supposed to mean? Broken?" Gibbon asked with a bewildered expression.

"It's all psychology. Abused children are usually desperate for approval and when they identify an individual as a figure who has 'saved' them, they cling desperately to that person and will do anything to please them. Dumbledore might have done it all on purpose. He wanted Potter to see him as his personal savior and be loyal to him," Urquhart explained.

"Well, it looks like it backfired on him," Gibbon said with a snort.

"What are you lot talking about?" a woman asked, coming up to the group. She wore a plain black over-robe, but it wasn't actual Death Eater robes and beneath it she wore tight black pants and a frilly deep blue blouse. Pants weren't common wear for witches, so she obviously came prepared for dueling. Harry wasn't sure, but he was fairly sure her name was Leslie something...

"Potter. You have seen that article in the Prophet, right?" Gibbon said.

The woman scoffed. "Obviously. You'd have to live under a rock to have missed it. Rather amusing isn't it? The Potter brat has really got Dumbledore squirming," she snickered.

"Do you think the Dark Lord will comment on it?" Gibbon asked.

"Why on earth would he? What relevance does it have to our training?" Urquhart asked.

"Well, er, nothing I suppose, I was just curious, is all. I wonder what _He_ thinks about this," Gibbon defended meekly.

"It is interesting that quite a few of the proposed policy changes that the Boy-Who-Lived suggested align rather closely to the Dark Lord's stance on magical children in the muggle world." the woman, Leslie, said.

"Do they?" Urquhart asked with an air of mild interest. "I wouldn't think that the Dark Lord would want mudblood children brought into the homes of _real_ witches and wizards."

"The Dark Lord wants complete separation from the muggle world," Snape said, making a comment for the first time since Urquhart and the others entered the conversation. "Total isolation. He wants magical children identified at the earliest point possible and taken from their muggle parents and placed into magical homes where they can be raised to properly respect our traditions."

"That _is_ interesting..." the woman said slowly before turning her head and glaring straight at Harry. "You know, it's rude to eavesdrop. Do _you_ have something to contribute to this conversation?"

Harry kept a blank face but rose a single eyebrow, questioning her accusatory tone. He crossed his arms across his chest as the others turned to look at him with varying degrees of distrust and suspicion.

Harry shrugged. "I think that the muggles will be the end of us. That some day – hopefully in the distant future, but probably not – the muggles, en mass, will discover us. They'll find out about magic, and they'll want it. They'll try to take it or duplicate it, but when they find out that they can't, they'll want to destroy it. Destroy _us._ But us trying to destroy them first won't work. Going around raiding muggle villages and killing sparse groups of muggles is pointless and meaningless, and even worse, it'll draw their attention to us sooner.

"If the muggles find out about us, it's over. We have to find a solution to the problem eventually, but we need time. Dumbledore thinks that the solution is to try and establish peaceful, working relationships with the muggles, out in the open. That we should all become familiar with the muggle world, and learn to adapt _our lives_ to work with them. To respect them as _equals,"_ Harry sneered the word. "He's deluded enough to believe that if we introduce ourselves to the muggles in the right way, and we treat them as equals and show them respect, that they'll do the same for us. Dumbledore is a _fool_. That's just not how human nature works. He wants to believe the best in people, but the honest truth is that humans are violent, covetous, jealous, and aggressive creatures. They find out about us, and it's over.

"What we need to do is prevent them from finding out about us for as long as possible so we can have more time to try and come up with a strategy to save ourselves. The first step towards preventing them finding us is to totally cut off all ties with them. The fewer magical people interact with the muggle world, the less exposure they have to us, and the less chance that they'll discover us. So that takes us back to the issue of magical children in the muggle world.

"Magical blood is magical blood, but you get too many generations of muggle in there and the magic is bound to break down and weaken. I think one of the bigger problems we have to deal with in our current magical society is witches, wizards, and squibs who are living with and breeding with muggles. Muggleborns are raised in the muggle world, so they're familiar and comfortable there, with other muggles, even if they aren't one. If they have trouble adjusting to the magical world, or have a hard time finding work here because they're discriminated against, they'll go back to the muggle world and the more time they spend there, the more likely it is that they'll breed with other muggles. They also increase the exposure that muggles have to a magical person. The more muggles that become aware of magic, the greater the risk to the rest of us becomes.

"If they maintain family and relationships in the muggle world, again – it increases the chances that they'll marry a muggle, and spread knowledge of the magical world to other muggles. If we get them into the magical world at an early age they'll be comfortable _here_. They'll have ties and relationships with other magical people and they'll marry a witch or wizard, and they won't have any reason to spend time in the muggle world, thus risking exposure," Harry said, coming to a stop because one man clearly wanted to say something.

"Yeah, but is it really such a good thing for mudbloods to be contaminating pure wizard blood with their filth and presence? If they want to all run off to the muggle world, then good riddance," Urquhart said raising his chin, imperiously.

"Like I said, as far as I'm concerned, magical blood is magical blood, and _any_ magical people living in the muggle world risks exposure of the secret. Most aren't aware of this, but there is currently a research study being conducted in the Department of Mysteries about the origin of magic and the way it's transferred through the blood and their leading theory actually says that muggleborns are, in reality, the descendent's of the squibs that have been cast out of the various pureblood families over the years. They've determined that it's actually _impossible_ for a 100% purely human muggle couple to ever produce a magical child. Pure humans don't have an ounce of magic in them and they can't make magical babies."

"Wait, then where the hell does the magic come from?" Gibbon asked, looking confused.

"Humans who breed with various magical creature races," Harry said with a bored eyeroll.

"Bullshit! I'm pure! There's no filthy creature blood in me," Urquhart sneered.

Harry snorted. "Sure, you just keep telling yourself that. You realize that the reason Slytherin's line could speak parseltongue was because if you go back far enough you'd find some nagas in there, right? And Merlin's father was an incubus. Morgan le fey's mother was some sort of fey, probably a naiad. It's the reason some magical families are almost all affiliated with either Light or Dark. The creature blood in their line was from either all Light or all Dark creatures. The Weasley's have gentry and dyrads in their line – _Light_ creatures. The Blacks have drow and sidhe ancestors – _Dark _creatures. The Malfoy line has veelas and harpies if you go back far enough – again, Dark creatures. And of course all of these families have intermarried, mixing the creature blood. That's the only thing that makes humans impressive. Our compatibility with all these different magical creatures. We're like a mixing pot. Humans – a species with no natural magical potential at all – are uniquely able to mix all the different types of magic together to create a new, even more powerful magical being. _Wizards._ That's why we are so great. Why we're better than all the rest. We, as a species, have the potential to be Light, Dark, or Neutral. We can be aligned with just one, but are still capable of performing all the other types of magic as well. No other species can do that! Only us!

Mixing our blood with the different types of magical creatures gave us unique access to their different types of magics and made us stronger than any other species that came before. Those wizards that descended from partnerships with Dark creatures formed the old Dark Families and the Dark families tend to mix mostly with each other, spreading around and mixing up the dark magic in their blood, while the old Light families tend to intermarry more with only other Light families. All of those with neutral affinities are because their families have been indiscriminate in who they married and have an even mixing of Light and Dark creature blood. It gives them more leeway, but they are not exceedingly powerful on either the extremes.

"The thing is that the introduction of the creature blood happened _ages_ ago – centuries, even thousands of years ago – so you don't even see many signs of it. When you've got someone who is a half or quarter creature, then it's more obvious. Filius Flitwick, the Charms professor at Hogwarts is a quarter goblin, and really – it's pretty obvious. The groundskeeper is half giant – again, obvious. But you get enough generations of just witches and wizards breeding and the creature traits become less and less obvious, but the magic still remains powerful. Go on long enough, and people forget. Or you get people who get the idea in their head that having creature blood makes them less of a wizard so they deny their creature heritage. But the simple matter of fact is, that without the creature blood introducing magic, none of us would be witches or wizards at all."

The group looked at him with varying degrees of skepticism. Harry shrugged. "Hey, you can believe what you want. Ask the Dark Lord some time what his opinion is on the matter."

"And what if he contradicts what you just said. Would you admit that you were wrong?" the woman, Leslie, asked.

Harry grinned and was about to open his mouth when a familiar voice spoke first from behind the group Harry was speaking to.

"Actually, _I'm _the one who told him most of that. Although, admittedly, he did come to a great many of his conclusions on his own. They do, however, align with my own."

The group of Death Eaters – Leslie, Snape, Urquhart, and Gibbon – spun around with wide eyes to find the Dark Lord standing behind them.

Almost as if on cue, the group bowed low and spoke in a chorus of 'My Lord,' causing Harry to smirk. Voldemort was wearing a long, flowing, elegant, black silken outer robe with emerald green snakes along the hems and collar that were animated to look like they were slithering through the stitching. Harry noticed that the snakes' eyes looked like tiny red gems that caught the light as they moved along the fabric. Beneath it, Harry knew that Voldemort was wearing a lighter weight tunic-style robe that had a fitted torso, tight long sleeves, and a lower half that fell loose from his hips and extended to just below his knees.

Voldemort walked around the group of bowing Death Eaters that had attracted the attention of the rest of the room, and many of them were now bowing their heads, or even getting down onto one knee to show their respect.

He came to stand in front of Harry, who gave him a quick smirk and Harry could see a spark of amusement in Voldemort's ruby red eyes.

"My Lord," Harry said, bowing his head.

"Evan," Voldemort said by way of a greeting before continuing on towards the head of the room.

Harry glanced back and saw a spark of recognition and mild surprise in the eyes of those he had been speaking to and smirked at them for a moment before turning and quickly following Voldemort to the head of the room.

Once up there, the two were joined by Barty and Thor, and Voldemort quickly set out explaining how the training sessions would go. With a flick of his wand, the training dummies that were lined up against one wall came to life and moved forward slightly, and standing in a line.

Voldemort went on to explain how they worked. That they would be animate when activated and had several levels of difficulty that would determine their intelligence level, designated body type (quick young wizard, versus a fat old lazy ministry official), spell repertoire (OWL level defense education, NEWT level defense, Hit Wizard, Auror, etc.) The dummies _would_ attack, but their actual attacks were rather weak. They were designed to _look_ like specific spells – stunners, cutting curses, bludgeoning curses, various hexes and jinxes, and if you set the difficulty high enough, they'd send out spells that even looked like the unforgivables. When you got hit with a spell, it would basically feel like a fairly painful stinging hex, and it would leave a bright glowing mark on your robes with a color, denoting what sort of spell it was.

Obviously, if you ended up with a bright green mark on your robes, it meant you just got hit with a killing curse, and you've obviously fucked up.

The dummies would move and dodge and could take a tremendous amount of damage without actually being destroyed.

It was obvious that the gathered Death Eaters were impressed with them, and pleased to learn that their Lord had designed and created them from scratch.

Voldemort went on to explain that in addition to training with the dummies, he would expect them to partake in real combat simulations as a group. He would also set aside a portion of their training where one or two, or even a small team, would take on a large group of the dummies at once, while the rest of the group observed. Afterward they would discuss and go over whatever mistakes were made.

Since the advanced group only met once a week, they met for much longer. They were all expected to stay there till midnight, which was a good four hours away, so they all realized they were in for a long evening. Finally things got started and the Death Eaters in the room spread about the space, each either taking one of the dummies, or pairing up with another Death Eater to duel since there weren't enough dummies for everyone.

Thor, Barty, and Harry were going along the line explaining exactly how to set the dummies while Voldemort walked the room slowly, observing everyone.

Thirty minutes of controlled chaos ensued. Harry, Barty, and Thor had taken to walking around and giving suggestions or making corrections to the others. Harry was watching a Death Eater who he was fairly sure was named Emmet Yaxley. He was growing frustrated with this guy because no matter what Harry said the man ignored him.

"No, no! You're going to get yourself killed, fighting like that. You're relying too much on your shield and counters. You need to use your feet! Even the bloody dummy keeps hitting you! Standing there like a statue just makes you an easy target!" Harry snapped at the man.

Yaxley spun around and in a quick movement was standing nose-to-nose with Harry, snarling at him. Harry held his place and didn't even flinch at the sudden approach. He stood his ground, glaring down at the man through narrowed eyes, just daring the man to make the first move.

"Who the fuck are _you_ to tell me how to fight? Eh? I ain't never even seen you lift your wand, you damn brat! What makes _you_ so special that the Dark Lord –"

But before the man could finish his sentence, Harry had blasted him with a quick flick of his wrist and his wand pointed at Yaxley's chest. Harry took a few steps forward with a frighteningly cold glare on his face as he looked down, imperiously at the man, crumpled on the floor and wheezing for breath. Yaxley tried to raise his head and glare back at Harry, but before he even had a chance to blink, Harry's wand was trained on him. "_Crucio!"_ Harry yelled and Yaxley's screams filled the hall.

Harry held it and the man continued to twist and scream as he suffered the torture curse. Harry's eyes were wide and filled with wicked insane glee as he basked in the incredible, intoxicating effects of his favorite curse.

Several Death Eaters looked to the Dark Lord, as if they were expecting him to put a stop to this. Surely no one besides the Dark Lord himself would be allowed to dish out a punishment like this, but whatever they expected to find, it wasn't what they saw.

The same insane, euphoric look, that graced Harry's glamored face, was echoed on Voldemort himself. He was looking down at the wailing tortured man on the floor with the look of a man who was casting the _cruciatus_ curse himself, not simply watching it.

Finally, Voldemort blinked and seemed to take a brief, calming breath to center himself. All of this was subtle and masked, but it was there for someone looking for it. He took a few calm strides forward and placed his hand gently on Harry's shoulder.

"Enough, Evan."

Harry dropped his wand and found himself panting lightly, still feeling super-charged by the delicious euphoria of casting the unforgivable torture curse.

Voldemort took a step back and let his glare travel slowly over the group of Death Eaters who were all now staring at him with wide, slightly fearful, eyes.

"It would appear that some of you require more than just the word of _your Lord_, in regards to showing my apprentice the respect he deserves," Voldemort said in a cold voice that only barely concealed his anger and annoyance. His eyes shot down to the still shaking and sniveling form of Yaxley on the floor. The man flinched and cowered at the fierce glare.

Without another word, Voldemort spun on the spot and made his way back to the front of the room. The gathered Death Eaters spread and dispersed, giving him room and hoping to avoid becoming the target of their Lord's anger.

"Evan, join me," he said simply. Harry shot one more angry glare at Yaxley as the man began to try and shakily get to his feet, before Harry turned and easily strode after the Dark Lord. It took those gathered a second to catch on to what was happening, but Harry knew right away what they were going to do. Voldemort stood to one side of the front and Harry instantly took his spot opposite and across from him, and assumed a dueling stance.

Voldemort had his wand at the ready and paused for only a moment while he and Harry stared into each others eyes. Without anything being spoken, suddenly a jet of purple and black jagged light shot from Voldemort's wand and Harry ducked and rolled to the side, instantly sending out a bright yellow zap of light that looked like electricity from a tesla coil, shooting out across the space. Voldemort raised his wand and with a precise movement and a counter-curse, the electricity was deflected, focused into a solid yellow beam and shot back at Harry.

Harry brought up his left hand, hissed out a very quiet parselmagic command and a shield appeared as if attached to his left forearm. The yellow beam deflected off the shield and with his right hand, he shot out a light that hit the ground in front of Voldemort, deforming it and turning it into a sheet of ice.

Voldemort's wand was instantly aimed at the ground, converting the slippery surface into something rougher and with some traction. Harry took advantage of that time to cast a series of pinkish spells at the Dark Lord, one right after another, so that Voldemort had to roll to fully dodge.

Even while in mid-roll, the Dark Lord's wand never stopped moving. Harry suddenly heard several hisses from behind him and leapt to the side, just in time to avoid the five or six snakes that had at some point been conjured, that were all ready to strike.

Harry cast a quick protego around him, turned and banished two of the snakes while summoning the others and flinging them through the air towards Voldemort, who laughed, flicked his wrist, causing them to turn into flames for a second before turning into nothing more than ash. Next thing Harry knew, a thin jet of flame shot out from the end of Voldemort's wand, but it did not disconnect or shoot out across the space. Rather it remained connected to the wand and now appeared to be a long whip of fire with molten bits dripping off it. Voldemort whipped it around and cracked it in the air, causing an explosion of fire that generated a powerful shock wave that almost made Harry stumble.

He strengthened his footing just in time to dart to the side and narrowly avoid the flame whip as it tore through the air towards him. Harry did _not_ want to come in contact with that thing. He did not fancy having to have another limb reattached, _thank-you-very-much._

Harry pointed his wand at the floor and a narrow gulch suddenly seemed to liquify there and turn into water. With a raise of his wand, the water shot into the air, creating a wall of freezing cold, shimmering, fluid, shielding him. When the firewhip came into contact with the wall, the fire went out and the whip shorted. Voldemort canceled the spell and the fiery end disappeared from his wand. Harry pointed his wand at the icy wall of water and suddenly it began for separate into formless sections that then changed into the shape of large icicles, with their pointy ends aimed towards Voldemort.

Another flick of Harry's wand and the icy crystals shot across the space with intense speed, right towards the Dark Lord. A flame wall, almost _instantly_ conjured by Voldemort, melted most of them, and a few flicks of his wand defected the others.

Harry was about to raise his wand to try another attack when Voldemort raised his hand, signaling the end of their duel. Harry instantly dropped his wand hand to his side and stood tall. He was panting from the magical and physical exhaustion, although Voldemort was still poised and calm as ever. Now that Harry had stopped, the adrenaline and euphoria became blatantly obvious and he almost wobbled on his feet as a powerful quiver ran through him, but he outwardly remained impassive. He closed his eyes for the briefest of seconds as he basked in the glorious rush and the pleasant tingling that was reverberating through his every muscle and nerve ending. It had been more than a week since he and Tom had had a one-on-one dueling session, and he had missed this rush. This glorious, amazing feeling...

He could feel echos of Tom's own Dark euphoria through the link, which really only made it that much harder to not just let go and bask in the pleasure. He was also filled with a very intense desire to drag the Dark Lord out of the ballroom and into a nice private room... but he knew that just was _not_ going to happen, so he pushed it aside and pressed on.

He opened his eyes and looked out over the room of Death Eaters. He couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face at their stunned expressions. Especially Snape and Malfoy. The two were usually so good at maintaining their stoic masks, but both men looked about ready to piss themselves from the shock. Harry nearly cackled in delight. Voldemort gave him a side-along glance and rose a single eyebrow, questioning his intense amusement through the link. Harry just shrugged and grinned slightly before subduing the expressing.

Voldemort refocused on the group and let the silence fill the room for a moment before speaking again.

"Anyone who is stupid enough to disrespect Evan Harris will suffer whatever punishment he deems fit. I will not stand in the way, no matter who you are. Consider this your only warning. Now get back to work!" he barked out loudly and the group as a whole seemed to flinch before quickly returning to their previous locations and resuming whatever practice, or duel they had been part of before the whole incident had begun.

– –

"That duel of yours was fucking unbelievable," Thor said in a quiet, but intense voice to Harry, about an hour later when the two came to stand beside each other by the ballroom wall, as they observed a group duel between two pairs of Death Eaters going on in the center.

"Uh... thanks," Harry said hesitantly, glancing at Thor out of the corner of his eyes.

"I thought you said you'd only had about four months of training with the Dark Lord?" Thor asked.

"That's right."

"Who taught you before him?"

"No one. I'm self-taught."

Thor blinked and turned fully to look at Harry with an expression filled with disbelief.

"Self-taught and four months of personal training with the Dark Lord taught you to fight like _that?" _the man hissed incredulously.

Harry shrugged. "The Dark Lord is a very persistent teacher. When it comes to dueling, he doesn't hold your hand, he just starts throwing curses, and after he revives you and heals whatever damage he's done, he teaches you the counter-curse, or an appropriate spell to block it and keeps throwing more curses at you until you stop getting hurt. You have no idea how many times I've had things reattached. I don't think many people realize this, but the Dark Lord is probably one of the most impressive healers I've ever encountered. He's reattached three of my fingers, my left arm from the elbow down, and my right foot... twice. He was a real bastard that week, actually. He thought it was _funny_." Harry rolled his eyes dramatically.

Thor blinked at Harry; looking at him like he were absolutely mad.

"What are you, some kind of masochist?"

Harry laughed – _loudly – _and several people turned to glare at the two of them, before instantly cowing upon seeing _who_ was laughing, and returning their attention to the duel going on.

"What's so funny about that?" Thor asked, cautiously.

Harry shrugged. "Maybe I am a masochist. I guess I'd have to be..." Harry got a glazed look in his eyes for a moment as a smirk spread across his lips. He blinked and the expression quickly dissolved away. "But it works, you know? I'm a bit of a masochist, and he's a sadist. Best combination, if you ask me."

Thorfinn almost got the impression that Harry was talking about more than just training, but quickly dismissed the idea as absurd and turned his focus back on the gathered Death Eaters, occasionally shooting glances back at the man known as Evan Harris. The Dark Lord's apprentice.

– –


	9. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary: Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta Pass by tannne

AN: **This chapter has a sex scene**. Skip the first page to skip it. It's clearly marked.

**AirKnitter: ** Great chapter. I really like this chapter. One question, Why didn't you have Rita Skeeter do the

interview?

- In the first story, Descent into Darkness, Rita was killed.

**Anon:** Are we in for some good ol' S&M? that would be most kinky.

- lol, I doubt it, since I'm trying to avoid incurring the wrath of the prude police here on FFnet. I've contemplated, on several occasions, having a separate 'story' that just has the more PWP sex scenes that I left out of the story, and if I do ever do that, I'll probably include some more S&M experimenting, but it's not terribly likely that I'll get around to it.

**virtuouslioness: **I realise Snape knows that Harry has gone Dark, but does he actually know that Evan and Harry

are the same person?

- Nope. Snape has no idea that Harry is Evan. The only Death Eater who knows at the moment is Barty. Not even Wormtail was let in on that detail before he was kicked out of the manor at the start of the summer, and Thor still has no idea either. Sirius is familiar with the appearance of 'Evan' since when Harry first approached Sirius in the cave with his "offer from the Dark Lord" he was using his glamor ring. But Harry never told Sirius his alternate persona's name.

**To Siriki:** For someone who claims to have poor English skills, you're review was incredibly well written, articulate, and really long! O_O Thanks for all the kind things you said. I really appreciate it. :)

– –

Chapter 8

**- begin lemon -**

Harry began to wake to the feel of warm wet lips trailing over his neck and working their way down to his collarbones. He hummed pleasantly as he felt Tom's fingers begin to brush teasingly over his nipple, playing with it until it began to pebble. He sucked in a rush of air between his teeth as he felt Tom bite down on his collarbone harshly before sealing his lips over the spot and sucking on it roughly.

_Marking me_, Harry thought with a smirk. Tom loved leaving marks.

"Finally waking up, are we?" Tom's voice came out with mock impatience and annoyance. But Harry could feel amusement through the link.

Harry made a humming noise in response but didn't actually get any words out before a startled gasp escaped his mouth as Tom moved down and bit down on the nipple he had been teasing only moments earlier. He had bit down rather hard and as Harry opened his eyes and looked down at Tom through his blurry vision, he could see a tinge of red upon the elder wizard's smirking lips.

Harry groaned and arched off the bed slightly at the sight of it, combined with Tom's heavily lidded eyes and piercing lustful gaze.

_I want you, Harry. Right now._ Tom hissed out in a demanding tone that sent a powerful wave of heat flooding through Harry and making him groan loudly. He was already so hard. Harry quickly nodded his head, feeling his breath becoming shallow with the excitement of what was to come and feeling the sleep completely leaving his foggy head.

He felt a rush of cold hit his body as the sheet was roughly pulled back, exposing his naked body. They rarely bothered with sleep clothes since they usually fell asleep after having sex each night. Not a lot of time or desire to slip on clothes afterwards. Before Harry even had a chance to register anything, Tom's mouth was trailing down his stomach, licking and nipping at every inch of him. His tongue darted into Harry's belly button, earning him another moan from the now writhing raven-haired wizard.

Harry felt his whole body convulse with pleasure as he felt Tom's warm mouth envelope him entirely. Tom shuddered as he felt the echo of the pleasure through their link. He continued to suck and tease at Harry's cock as he wandlessly summoned the jar of lubricant that had a permanent home on their bedside table. Without pausing in his ministrations, he dipped his middle and index finger into the open jar, getting them thoroughly covered. Still, partially focused on his attention to Harry's cock, his fingers began to tease Harry's entrance, while his thumb began to massage Harry's perineum.

Harry was practically out of his mind with pleasure and _feeling_ by the time Tom decided he was ready, pulled back and positioned himself at Harry's entrance. A quick harsh thrust forward and Harry's world was filled with stars. There was pain in that first moment, but it was _so good too_. He liked it. He wanted it. He wanted to be taken. To allow Tom to control the moment. The man was just so good at it, so why not let him? Plus the pain and the rawness made everything more real, and it made the other pleasure so much more intense by contrast.

It was only moments before Tom had set a brutal, forceful pace, and with every forward thrust his cock crashed against Harry's prostate sending shockwaves of intense sensation and glorious bliss rocketing through his whole body.

Harry rocked his hips in time with Tom's harsh thrusts, meeting him and intensifying everything. He was screaming out for_ 'More!', 'Harder!', 'Yes, right there!', _and_ 'Oh fuck Tom, don't stop! Don't ever stop!', _all the while Tom continued to hiss out in parseltongue, making everything so much more intense with the rush of the parselmagic in the air.

They came together with Harry folded almost completely in half with Tom's hand wrapped around, pumping Harry's cock, and his own cock buried deep inside Harry.

_**- /end lemon -**_

They melted into each other's embrace, panting heavily and catching their breath as they basked in the post coital bliss that always settled around them after sex.

Harry hummed happily as a wide dopey smile spread across his face. Tom snickered at him and Harry stuck his tongue out playfully.

"I want to go out today," Tom said finally and Harry turned his head and gave him a blank look for a moment.

"Out?"

"Yes, I'm beginning to feel cooped up; I imagine you feel much the same. We have absolutely _nothing_ that we have to do today, so I thought we could use a 'day off'."

Harry shrugged but nodded his head. "Alright. But where should we go? And as _who?_ If 'Harry Potter' is spotted in Diagon Alley, it'll probably cause a bit of a stir, and Dumbledore will probably find out."

"I was actually thinking that the two of us could go somewhere closer than Diagon Alley. As for 'as who', I will go as myself, but with my slightly modified appearance, so you should use your glamor ring."

"Alright, but where, exactly, are we going that's 'closer'?"

"I was thinking that we could walk down to the village."

Harry blinked. "You mean down to Little Hangleton?"

"Yes."

"Hm," Harry made a slightly surprised noise of acknowledgment. "Alright. I'd actually like to see it, now that I think about it. I've been here all this time and I've never once seen the village."

"I thought as much," Tom said with a grin.

The two went through a shortened version of their morning workout, took a joint shower, had breakfast in the dining room, and then dressed in muggle-village compatible clothing. Tom's clothes were still technically wizard-made, but, as with their visit into muggle London, they looked muggle enough to pass. Black pressed slacks with a black silk button-down shirt that Harry insisted Tom leave untucked. Tom had thought it sloppy, but Harry had said that untucked was more in style with muggles these days. He also may have made mention that he thought Tom looked rather attractive dressed that way, and _perhaps_ that was the only real reason Tom had relented on the subject.

In black pants and a long-sleeved black shirt, Tom didn't exactly look appropriately dressed for the late July season, but neither of them exactly cared about that detail. Harry was wearing jeans again. They were light blue and had a washed-out look to them. His t-shirt was emerald green, snug, and fitted to cling to his torso in a way that almost made Harry feel a bit exposed. It was Tom who had picked it out. He informed Harry that if he had to wear his shirt-tails untucked, then Harry had to wear whatever shirt he picked out. Harry had actually laughed at that statement and easily slipped the shirt over his head.

They both slipped their anti-tracking pendants around their necks before leaving the manor. They walked right out the front door, down the path to the hedge that marked the edge of the grounds and onto the road that led into town.

The two walked in relative silence, just basking in the warm sun and Harry, looking around and taking in the scenery.

"So this is the town your parents came from, right?" Harry asked.

Tom slowed and made an affirmative sort of noise from the back of his throat and nodded his head slowly as he looked back down the road behind them with a distant look to his eyes. Finally he seemed to pull himself back to the moment and they resumed walking.

"Yes. As you know, the manor belonged to my _muggle_ grandparents, and my _muggle_ father came back and lived with them after he abandoned my pregnant mother. My mother and her brother and father lived in a rather pathetic hovel further back down the road."

"And they were the... Gaunts, right?" Harry asked, not entirely sure if he remembered the name correctly.

"That's correct."

"The last descendants of Salazar Slytherin..." Harry mused quietly.

Tom snorted lightly. "They were a rather pathetic lot. Marvolo Gaunt was a penniless wizard who was too dependent on his legendary heritage and not skilled or ambitious enough to make anything of himself. His wife was also his _cousin_. She was the daughter Marvolo's aunt – Magnolia. His wife, Melantha, died giving birth to my mother, Merope. Neither my mother nor her brother Morphin were worth anything. They were both weak-minded fools."

Harry nodded his head slowly, trying to sort it out in his head. "That's... hard for me to keep track of in my head. Do you have a tapestry or anything of it, anywhere?"

"I tracked down a family tree of the Gaunts at one point in my youth, but I no longer have any idea what happened to it," Tom said with a mild sigh. "It was a very long time ago."

"I had my aunt send me as much information about my mum's side of the family as well, about a month before school got out," Harry said, conversationally. "I think it's really fascinating to think that she had to have descended from a squib at some point."

"It would be interesting to find out what families you could have heralded from on your mother's side," Tom said thoughtfully.

Harry screwed up his face in thought for a moment. "You said that Marvolo's aunt was named Magnolia?"

"That's right."

"Do you know what her last name was, after she married, I mean."

"I believe it was Mur–"

"Murphy?" Harry guessed, interrupting Tom.

Tom stopped, and gave Harry a surprised and confused look, but Harry just looked shocked.

"Harry?"

"Lily and Petunia Evans were daughters of Mark Evans and Azalea Evans, nee Stevens," Harry began in a slightly monotone voice, as if he were reciting something from memory. "Azalea Stevens was the daughter of Iris and Rupert Stevens. Iris' maiden name was O'Connell. She was the daughter of Marigold and Patrick O'Connell. Marigold's maiden name was Murphy, but Aunt Petunia couldn't find much information about her family. Only that _her_ mother's name was Magnolia Murphy."

"There was no Marigold Murphy listed on the family tree I looked at," Tom said thoughtfully. "According to the genealogy research I did, Magnolia's only daughter was Melantha, Marvolo's wife and cousin. But if she did have a sister named Marigold, who was born a squib, it's likely that she would have been stricken from the family tree."

"Right."

Tom's eyes were focused, but distant and it looked as if his mind was working out a complex problem. "Magnolia Murphy was my great-aunt, and I believe she was born somewhere around 1875. The Magnolia Murphy from your mother's family tree would have been your..." he paused for a moment, "Great-great-great grandmother. If we estimate that each woman had their child somewhere around the age of 20, it would put your Magnolia's birth around the same time. It _could_ be possible."

Harry looked at Tom with an absolutely stunned expression. "You mean we might actually be _related_?"

"Not exactly _closely_ related, but related. Yes. Not terribly uncommon among pureblood families though. I know the Potter family has intermarried with the Blacks, Longbottoms, Prewits, Bulstrodes, and the Burkes."

"Wow..." Harry blinked, trying to take in the idea.

"You having a genealogical connection to Slytherin's line would certainly explain your ability to perform parselmagic. I could almost believe that you would be able to gain the understanding of parsel_tongue_ because of the piece of my soul within you, but the fact that you can perform the parselmagic and serpentine transformations has always made me suspect there was more too it."

"Do you think my mum could have been a parseltongue too?" Harry asked.

"Possible, but doubtful. She had too many generations of muggle blood in her. I imagine the infusion of strong magical blood that you got from your father's side was enough to give you access to the dormant magic from your mother's lineage." Tom paused for a moment before speaking again. "This theory adds a new perspective to one aspect of the prophecy."

"How so?"

"Well, it supplies us with another way in which you are an 'equal' to me. You are the only other wizard alive, as far as we know, who shares the blood of Salazar Slytherin."

"Hm," Harry made a mildly surprised sound. He paused and looked thoughtful for a second before turning and looking down the road in the direction that Tom had indicated the Gaunt hovel was. "So my great-great-great grandmother's sister, was your grandmother. Right?"

"Correct."

"And she lived in a house, down that road."

"Yes, I suppose so. Do you want to visit it?"

Harry looked like he was contemplating it for a moment before he turned back towards Tom and shrugged while giving him a soft smile. "Maybe later. Let's get into town."

"Alright, love."

–

The pair reached the village of Little Hangleton only a few minutes later, once they had resumed actually walking. It was a quaint little muggle village with really only one main street – the road they came down on. The main street, which was called Kelston Road had a small strip of little shops, a cafe, a couple restaurants, and a few private businesses. They went into a little pawn shop and browsed aimlessly while quietly conversing about things that were public-friendly.

Tom actually bought a few small seemingly random objects at the pawn shop. When Harry asked _why_, Tom said that they would be used to create portkeys or other innocuous items to hold a charm or a curse.

They left the shop and continued on down the road for a short distance before entering a small convenience store. Harry began to lazily browse around while Tom stood to the side of the check-out counter, looking at some of the items on the shelves. Harry came over followed Tom's gaze.

"Muggle cigarettes?" Harry asked, somewhat incredulously.

Tom turned his head and raised a single challenging eyebrow at Harry.

"Do you smoke?" Harry asked.

"I did. A rather long time ago."

"Seriously?" Harry asked with a clearly amused smile spreading across his face.

"I was a teenager in the forties, love. It was hard to find someone who _didn't_ smoke, during that time."

"Well, _yeah – _among the _muggles_. I guess I'm just surprised that wizards would take it up too."

"The act of wrapping herbs in paper, lighting it on fire, and then breathing in the fumes is far from being a _muggle-_only thing." Tom said, rolling his eyes. "The centaurs have been doing it for thousands upon thousands of years."

"I suppose that makes sense. So are you saying that you smoked back when you went to Hogwarts? Did a lot of other students smoke at school?"

"Enough did."

"I guess the staff must of cracked down on it since because I've never seen anyone at Hogwarts smoking."

"You're probably just not looking in the right places," Tom said with a smirk. "So are you prepared to move on to the next store?"

"Actually, I was thinking that we could get some groceries."

Tom looked bewildered. "Groceries? The house elves take care of that, why would we need to get _groceries?_"

"Well, I was thinking that I could pick up some specific things and maybe cook dinner tonight."

Tom blinked, giving Harry a blank look. "You want to _cook_." he said in a flat tone.

"What?" Harry asked, defensively.

"Cooking is servants work, Love. You are no servant."

"Hey, I happen to _enjoy_ cooking every once in a while. Besides, I thought you said you liked my cooking last time?"

Tom huffed. "I did _like_ it, but this is our first completely free day in a while and I do not want you wasting it away alone behind a stove."

"Well you could always join me in the kitchen. It could make things go quicker and smoother, and we could cook together."

Tom's lip curled in mild disgust, as if the mere suggestion were offensive, causing Harry to grin.

"You are not getting me to _cook," _Tom said curtly with a mild sneer.

Harry's eyes flickered suddenly with a mischievousness that made Tom visibly wary.

"Why Tom... such a strong reaction. It makes me wonder if this is really because you believe cooking beneath you, or if perhaps you might actually _not know how to cook._" Harry said in a teasing voice.

Tom narrowed his eyes further. "I am fully capable of cooking should the need arise."

"Oh, I'm sure you could manage _something..."_

"What exactly are you insinuating? And why in Merlin's name are you so amused?"

"I just find it funny that I've _finally_ found something you haven't mastered."

"I have hardly mastered _everything._" Tom scoffed.

"Only _most _everything."

"I mastered that which I deemed important."

"Which is most everything." Harry deadpanned.

Tom gave him a long piercing glare before the corner of his mouth turned up against his will. Harry's stoic facade broke and his face was split by a wide grin. Amusement was coursing through the connection and it was simply too much for either to hide.

"You're _teasing_ me, aren't you?" Tom asked, narrowing his eyes at Harry and taking on a slightly intimidating glare but grinning slightly despite himself.

Harry's grin widened. "Maybe. But come on, admit it. The fact that I tease you is one of the reason's you love me so much."

The corner of Tom's lips twitched for a moment before a full out grin broke the faux anger and Harry was greeted with the rare sight of those authentically happy eyes. He leaned in, raising his hand and threading his fingers through Harry's long black hair that, to everyone else looked blond, thanks to the glamor ring. He pulled Harry's face closer to his, so that their lips were only inches from each other.

"That reason, and _so many more," _he whispered before pulling Harry the remainder of the distance and crashed their lips together.

Harry felt a magical well, deep inside him, bursting with some glorious warmth at Tom's insinuated almost-admission and returned the kiss with enthusiasm. The fact that they were in public never bothered either of them and their embrace deepened for a moment when both suddenly froze completely.

They had both sensed it at the same moment. It was a powerful magical presence, and it was in the room _with them_. The fact that it had just appeared out of nowhere, but without any sort of accompanying burst from something like apparition, would suggest that it had likely been there all along, only it had been suppressed or hidden. They pulled apart and looked into each other's eyes for the briefest of moments before they both whipped around, wands drawn, and aiming at the spot of the magical presence.

Harry's eyes widened and his jaw dropped at what he saw there. Or rather, at _who_ he saw.

"Albus Dumbledore," Tom sneered in a slow, cold, voice. "What an... _unpleasant_ surprise."

As Harry observed the old silver-bearded wizard, who was standing not far from an elderly woman who worked in the store, and wearing a rather odd-looking muggle pinstriped suit, Harry saw the briefest look of absolute shock in the man's eyes before the look was masked away with that calm, genial smile that did nothing but infuriate Harry lately.

"My, my. This is quite a surprise," Dumbledore said lightly.

"What could possibly bring _you_ to Little Hangleton?" Tom drawled while fiercely glaring at Dumbledore.

"As it just so happens, Tom my dear boy, I was here looking for _you,"_ Dumbledore replied with that calm, conversational tone he always tended to use, no matter what situation he was in. Harry found himself sneering at the man in disgust.

"Looking for me?" Tom replied in a cold, but airy voice.

"Yes. However, I must admit that I most certainly didn't expect to just stumble across you in town... and looking like your old self again, even. Most unexpected."

"I would imagine so." Tom said curtly.

"You see, I heard that your father's old home had gone and _vanished_. Imagine my surprise?"

"Vanished? Imagine that." Tom drawled sarcastically.

"Yes, the locals seem to be under the impression that it came under new ownership and the owner demolished the building. As it were, no one can seem to quite remember how to find the land on which it once stood. I must admit that I was quite curious about this development."

Tom remained quiet, glaring coldly at Dumbledore for a moment. "Yes. Well, you've found me. Speak your peace and be gone." Tom said in a sharp clipped tone. Harry turned his head slightly and looked at Tom with mild confusion before refocusing on Dumbledore.

"Speak my peace?" Dumbledore asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Surely you aren't expecting to engage in some sort of duel, here in the center of a muggle village in broad daylight?" Tom rolled his eyes.

"Honestly, I would not have expected such mitigating circumstances to stop you before."

"You never did understand me." Tom sighed in exasperation.

"I suppose not. Although given your advantageous position, I would not expect you to just let me leave. You do, after all, have me out-numbered," Dumbledore paused and motioned towards Harry, "and you have the advantage of several innocent bystanders to take hostage."

Tom simply stared at him with a blank expression and narrowed, annoyed eyes.

"Ah, forgive me for my rudeness," Dumbledore continued, with sparkling eyes now trained firmly on Harry, "but I seem to have neglected introductions. Tom, perhaps you could do the honors? I'm afraid I am unfamiliar with your friend."

Tom's eyes narrowed even further and if looks could kill, Harry was sure that Tom would be shooting killing curses from his eyes straight at Dumbledore. He sneered disdainfully before huffing in annoyance. "Evan, may I introduce you to Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School and my one-time, long ago, transfiguration professor. Albus Dumbledore, may I introduce you to Evan Harris, my _partner._"

Harry blinked in momentary surprise at the label. _Was Tom admitting their relationship status to bloody Dumbledore?_ Of course, they _had_ just been caught snogging in public...

Surprise flashed through Dumbledore's face as his eyes traveled between 'Evan' and Tom. "_Partner?_" Dumbledore echoed with a mixture of surprise and disbelief.

"Yes," Tom replied in a clipped tone.

"My, Tom, I must admit you've caught me by surprise yet again. I never thought you much one for _sharing_ power," Dumbledore said while maintaining his grandfatherly smile and infuriatingly twinkly eyes.

"Mostly I just share his bed," Harry said with more confidence than he really felt, being faced with his headmaster. He gave the man a cocky smirk and stepped forward, offering his hand. He was worried for a moment that he may have overstepped a bit, but he felt nothing but smug amusement from Tom, so he knew he hadn't said anything to piss him off.

Again the surprise flashed through Dumbledore's eyes and Harry felt a moment of victory. It was usually so hard to get the man to show anything beside his grandfatherly facade. Dumbledore's hand came out and the pair shook hands. It lasted for only an instant before Harry took a step back, returning to Tom's side and not-so-subtly wiping his hand on his jeans as if his hand were now contaminated by some filth.

Tom saw the movement out of the corner of his eyes and smirked. Harry could feel Tom's amusement increase even more through the link and smirked back.

"Now don't be modest, love," Tom began. "You know you are far more to me than a mere bedmate. Personally, I feel _partner_ to be a rather fitting title," Tom said while examining his fingernails as if he were bored.

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed and lingered between the two with a confused, yet calculating gaze for a moment before it cleared up and was replaced, once again, with his serene calm facade.

"A day full of surprises, indeed." Dumbledore mused quietly while smiling softly.

"So, _Dumbledore_," Tom began, his voice returning to the harsh, clipped, tone of before and his eyes refocusing on the man, "It would appear that you were already aware, on some level, that I had returned. Or at least, you suspected. I'm curious as to how long exactly you have known?"

"Oh, you know me, Tom. I have a way of finding out about these things," Dumbledore said smiling blandly.

"Yes. I'm sure. Well, now you've _found me_ and seen me with your own eyes. Was there something more, or is this satisfactory to you? I do have things to do. If we are done here, I'd prefer it if you _left."_

"Oh come now, surely you can't expect me to simply _leave._ I must admit, Tom, I am immensely curious as to how _this _has come to pass? After all, you have been believed _dead_ for more than a decade. I, of course, knew that wasn't truly the case, but still... you were as close to dead as a person can get and still be alive. And yet, here you stand, perfectly alive and surprisingly _human_. Not to mention, quite youthful."

"I have my secrets, Dumbledore. Just as you have yours."

"Ah, yes. We all have secrets. Things we hide... even from those closest to us," Dumbledore said in a light, but suggestive tone as his eyes traveled to Harry.

Harry smirked wider, knowing the man was trying to get to him. Testing to see what buttons he could push that might hit a tender spot. Secrets was probably a pretty good guess, since Tom was, by nature, an extremely secretive person. However, he didn't really hide anything from Harry. They had surprisingly few secrets between them.

"That isn't going to work, Dumbledore," Tom said in a bored drawl. "But speaking of _secrets_, I think that _you_ have been keeping a rather huge one from quite a few of those closest _to you."_ Tom said, his smile turning wicked.

Dumbledore frowned slightly. "Oh? And what might that be?"

"That little _fake_ prophecy of yours. Weren't you using that to lure in the cooperation of some of your closest followers? A prophecy about a supposed savior? A child born, destined to defeat me? I wonder... what they would say if they knew that you had just _made it up._"

Dumbledore's eyes flashed intensely for the briefest of seconds before he had brought up a confused-old-grandfather look. "Why, Tom, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I'm sure you _don't,"_ Tom drawled, sarcastically. "Just don't expect me to play your little game, Dumbledore. I have far too many important things to accomplish to waste my valuable time chasing after a fake prophecy for your own amusement."

Dumbledore stood silently, giving Tom a tightly held calculating look before he spoke again. "I must say that I'm curious as to what would lead you to the conclusion that the prophecy might be fake."

"You have no idea where I have been, Dumbledore. What I have done. What I have _seen._ You said so yourself – I was as close to dead as one can get and still be alive. And it has been a very _long time._ You think I spent all that time, floating around as a spirit in the forests of Albania?" Tom paused and then smirked. "As we already established. People have secrets. And I most definitely have mine. But I know the little show you put on that night with Sybil Trelawney was staged. The woman was under the _Imperius_. Her so called 'prophecy' was nothing more than a concoction of your own imagination.

"Why, you decided to sic me on the Potter brat, I will admit, I do not know, although I imagine as such blind, _loyal_ little followers of the Light, the Potters were all the more eager to do whatever it was you asked of them. Even if it meant sacrificing their own lives – although I doubt they realized that was what you intended. As for my temporary destruction, I suspect _you_ played a far larger role in that then the one year-old child that has received all the acclaim. Did you teach that lovely little blood ritual to Lily Potter? Naughty, naughty, Dumbledore. Tricking your followers into using the very same Dark Magic that you speak so righteously against. Tut, tut."

Dumbledore's face remained impassive, but there was a storm raging behind his eyes. Confusion and uncertainty, among annoyance and frustration. Harry's smirk widened. Tom chuckled darkly.

"I really have no idea what you're talking about, Tom," Dumbledore finally said, looking sad and apologetic.

Tom scoffed. Harry could feel the impatience growing through the link and knew that Tom was quickly becoming bored and annoyed with this entire encounter.

"Fine, suit yourself. Now are we _done_ here, because, like I said, I have things to do, and this little encounter of ours is becoming tiring. If you really _insist_, I am more than willing to oblige your desire for a fight. I would like nothing more than to end you where you stand right now. So, unless you are going to draw your wand and commit to a serious battle, _leave here now_. Your business here is done."

Dumbledore stood in silence, sharing a long glare with Tom before he slowly nodded his head. "Yes... I suppose my business here is concluded... for now." He paused, glanced between Tom and Harry again before looking around the store they were standing in. No one was looking at them. Harry realized that at some point, someone had cast a rather powerful notice-me-not around them. Whenever the two muggles in the store did glance their way, their eyes glazed over a bit and they turned and looked somewhere else. "However, I must insist," Dumbledore continued, "that you leave as well."

Tom's brows rose and the anger was obvious in his cold expression. "And who are you to _insist_ that I do anything?"

"I could easily ask the same question of you, Tom. I cannot leave these people unprotected. I do not know what business you have here, but it can surely not be good for the poor muggle inhabitants of this town."

Tom scoffed loudly before sneering back at Dumbledore. "You are utterly ridiculous, Dumbledore. I _live_ here. You think I want to spend every waking hour cooped up in my own home? I did not become a Dark Lord to end up a captive in my own home. I am not about to start slaughtering the muggles down the street from my residence. If I really wanted to kill them, I wouldn't have hesitated to attack _you _the moment I saw you here."

"Despite what you claim, I will not leave this town until I see that you have left as well."

"You are pushing your luck, old man," Tom growled and Harry could feel the fury building over the link and the powerful cracking of Tom's magic igniting the air. "I will not be commanded to _leave_."

"I will not go until I can guarantee their safety," Dumbledore insisted with a firmer voice and a raised head.

Tom's eyes narrowed and his lips curled up. "You are a _liar. _You are intentionally trying to bait me. You know damn well that by doing this you are endangering them _more_. Do you honestly believe that I wouldn't be able to kill you without attracting the Ministry's attention? Doing this will not get your precious Ministry to acknowledge my return, _Dumbledore,"_ he sneered angrily. "You will leave, or you will fight. You have ten seconds to make your choice."

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed and annoyance slipped through on his expression for the briefest moment.

_Ready your wand._

Harry blinked once before managing to master his expression. It was... odd. A whisper of a voice in his mind. It was strangely reminiscent of when Tom's horcrux spoke to him in his mind – something that hadn't happened since it lost the pieces of Tom's personality through he and Tom's link.

As discretely as he could manage, Harry twisted his wrist, releasing his cypress wand from his disillusioned wrist holder where he had temporarily stored it when he shook Dumbledore's hand. Dumbledore's eyes flicked down to it for an instant before going back up to meet with Tom's glaring eyes, once again.

_Fire a killing curse on my cue_. The voice whispered again.

Reaching out with his mind and his magic, Harry grasped hold of the feeling of the voice in his mind and tried to respond.

_I'm ready_. He said, unsure if it had actually gotten through.

_Good_. Tom's voice whispered back into his mind, proving that it had in fact worked.

"Well, Tom, if you're really do insist–" Dumbledore began to say, but before he even finished Harry heard _now!_ In his mind almost at the same time as Tom drawled _"Ten! _ Too late, Dumbledore._"_

Harry and Tom both raised their wands at the same moment as simultaneous blasts of green light emerged from their wands and went flying towards Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore had his wand up and summoned a large chrome metal serving platter from the counter, causing the display of candies sitting atop it to go flying around the room as the platter managed to intersect one of the curses, while Dumbledore rolled and dodged the other. The serving platter burst into pieces that melted upon contact with the ground. One of the muggles in the store screamed and Tom's wand was suddenly trained on her causing Dumbledore to pause and look warily from Tom to the woman.

"Leave, _now._" Tom commanded in a low, cold voice.

Dumbledore's jaw clenched and Harry could see a battle going on behind the man's eyes before he nodded his head curtly. "Do not think this is over."

Tom snorted. "That goes without saying you stupid old man. Now get the hell out of my sight."

Dumbledore obviously did not _want_ to leave, but he did. He turned on the spot and vanished with a quiet crack. Harry released a low breath that he hadn't even realized he'd been holding and turned to look around the space. Aside from the metal serving platter, nothing had really been damaged. The woman who had screamed was now cowering on the floor with her hands over her head, whimpering. Tom waved his wand and the melted bits of platter were banished, and the scattered candies all flew back up to the counter. He pointed his wand at the woman and Harry could feel the Dark Lord's magic, but whatever was cast was done silently so Harry wasn't positive of exactly which spells had been used.

The woman looked up with wide confused eyes that suddenly went glazed, then blank. A moment later she blinked, stood up slowly and walked right out of the store. Tom then turned his wand on the stunned and confused cashier, who flinched at the sight of the strange stick pointed at her. Tom flicked it and effortlessly performed a memory charm of some sort and then walked up to the register. "I'll take a carton of Dunhill, please," Tom said in a bored tone. The cashier blinked a couple times before turning around, grabbing the carton of cigarettes from behind her and handing them over. She didn't even ask for payment, but Tom didn't seem particularly intent on sticking around to pay. He turned and began to walk right out of the shop with Harry following behind.

They walked back down the road in silence for a few minutes before Tom huffed out a frustrated sigh, flicked his wand and shrouded them in a privacy ward. "Well that was annoying."

Harry coughed out a laugh. "That it was. I never in a _million years_ would have expected to run into Dumbledore in Little Hangleton... That was quite a bluff you pulled there, by the way. The part where you insinuated you found out about the fake prophecy while you were without a body."

"I thought so," Tom said with an accomplished smirk. "He certainly can't prove it would be impossible. No one knows what I experienced during that time except for me."

"I was rather surprised you let it slip that you know the prophecy is fake..." Harry mused quietly as they continued to walk.

Tom smirked. "I wanted to rub in his face that more than a decade's worth of work had failed. I couldn't exactly reveal _your _switch in loyalties, but I could at least destroy his precious little illusion about me blindly following along with his fake prophecy."

"But you didn't reveal that you knew anything about the _real_ prophecy."

"Of course not. If I knew of the real prophecy I would likely try to court your favor – try to woo you to the Dark, as it were," he paused and smirked maliciously at Harry, causing him to chuckle. "And the last thing we want is for Dumbledore to start questioning the loyalties of his precious boy-who-lived."

They walked in silence for a few more seconds before Tom sighed and spoke again. "We'll probably need to obtain a new headquarters."

Harry blanched. "Abandon the manor!"

"I am confident that Dumbledore will not easily get through my wards, but that man is persistent to an obscene degree. He will not give now that he _knows_ I am there. I am sure we still have quite a bit of time – he will not move before he is ready, and he will surely need to build up a much larger force before attempting an assault on my headquarters, but I think it would be wise that we begin searching for a suitable alternative."

Harry frowned, scowling both at the idea of having to move and the fact that Dumbledore's annoyingly unexpected appearance was screwing over their day. He sighed heavily after a moment of brooding. "You're right. I still hate it."

"It was inevitable. I knew when I first took up residence in my father's old house that it was an overly obvious location and that it would not go unnoticed forever. I suppose this just gives us one more task to work on for the remainder of your summer."

Harry groaned. "We're already _so busy_."

"Things will calm down from here. The only regular occurrences I am expecting in the coming month are the training sessions. I will not be bringing in my followers for personal debriefing nearly as often now. They will be making most of their reports in writing now."

Harry nodded his head and sighed again. "You're right. So where do we start looking?"

"We will start _tomorrow_. Just because our trip into the village was rudely interrupted, does not mean that we cannot still enjoy the remainder of the day."

Harry turned and grinned at Tom, thankfully. Tom gave him a small soft smile back.

"Oh hey! What was that thing we did back there? We talked over the link. We've never done that before!"

"Ah yes... I wasn't positive it would work, but I had been considering trying it for several days now. I've used a similar technique to communicate with Nagini before."

"Interesting..." Harry paused and tried to find that same feeling, deep inside him, that he had pulled at when they'd spoken before. _Can you hear me?_

Tom chuckled. _Yes, Harry, I can._

Harry grinned widely. "Brilliant," he said aloud.

They continued on the way and were nearing the hedge at the edge of the manor grounds when Harry began to snicker. Tom looked at him and raised a single questioning eyebrow.

"I can't believe we came out as a couple to Dumbledore."

Tom rolled his eyes but grinned mildly. "It's not as if the man was unaware of my preference. He _was_ one of my teachers during the whole 'outing' incident."

"You know, Dumbledore always insisted to me that you were incapable of feeling positive emotions. Incapable of friendship, or affection. Wonder what he thinks of this."

"I'm sure he's convinced that I'm just using you. That I've tricked you into believing that I care when in reality I'm just a cold, heartless, monster, using your affection for me to take advantage of you."

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I'm sure you're right."

– –

The next day Mixey popped in at breakfast with their mail. She had been collecting it daily ever since Harry's interview with the Prophet because each and every day he would receive letters from people. They had been dwindling to fewer and fewer each day, but there was still almost always at least one letter a day. That morning featured two letters that were noteworthy. One from Fudge, and one from Dumbledore.

The letter from Fudge was inviting Harry to lunch later that week on August 3rd. He suggested a couple different options, giving Harry the choice of vetoing any. Harry replied quickly, choosing one of the restaurants listed and saying that he would be thrilled to have lunch with the Minister again.

The letter from Dumbledore was another plea that Harry _please_ tell him where he was hiding. He insinuated that there could be something 'big' going on in relation to Voldemort, but did not actually reveal to Harry that Dumbledore knew Voldemort was resurrected. He suggested that it was growing more and more dangerous for Harry to be outside of Dumbledore's protection and that Death Eater activity was on the rise – which was actually a bit comical because Harry knew for a fact that aside from subtle spying, the Death Eaters weren't actively doing _anything _yet. He also attempted to play on the guilt factor, stating that Harry was making many people, such as Molly Weasley, and Remus Lupin extremely worried, and then said that he was sure he was also making his godfather Sirius extremely worried as well.

This told Harry that Sirius was, in fact, keeping his distance from Dumbledore, but it also made Harry wonder what his godfather might be up to. He hadn't gotten even a single letter from Sirius all summer long and he had to admit he was a little hurt by that fact.

Harry wrote back to Dumbledore, once again, refusing the man's 'gracious offer' and insisting that he was very confident in the security where he was staying. He also offered to write letters to Lupin and Mrs. Weasley to reassure them that he's doing fine. He ended the letter politely while smirking and sent his two letters off with Mixey.

The next few days passed in a blur. The training sessions were coming along fairly well. The Death Eaters were getting the hang of the dummies and they were all learning just how versatile they could be. True to Tom's word, the daily meetings had decreased and he and Harry had started looking up ancient abandoned castles and old magical manors that were no longer in use.

Lucius Malfoy had offered up his own home should any emergency situations arise and they all be forced to relocate on short notice. Voldemort had accepted it as a fall-back plan, but didn't exactly want to have to rely on that. Besides, he was still at least slightly angry with Malfoy for what had happened to his diary.

Harry and Tom had tested out their ability to communicate through the link over greater distances. Tom had even taken one trip outside the manor to visit one potential site for a new headquarters and had spoken to Harry over the link from there. To push it even further, he had pushed an image of the large crumbling castle across the link and Harry had been able to see it with a little concentration.

Tom had apparated back, since the castle in question wasn't up to his standards, but the test had proven interesting.

The morning of the 31st arrived faster than Harry could have anticipated. It was strange for Harry to think that only a month had passed since he arrived at the manor when so much had happened. It was honestly surreal. He chuckled when he realized that a month prior, he had still been a virgin. That alone seemed like a huge monumental change. His relationship with Tom had evolved so much since he had first come to the manor. They seemed like two totally different people now than they had been only a month prior. They had both grown and changed so much.

Harry woke that morning to an absolutely _glorious_ morning 'birthday present' from Tom. One powerful orgasm later, he and Tom were lying in each other's arms, sweaty and sticky. They had a training session that evening with the Intermediate group, but Tom had made sure that there was nothing else scheduled for the day. Harry thought it was unnecessary, since he wasn't exactly planning to have a party or anything, and he wasn't intending to leave the house either. Still, the gesture was touching and he appreciated it.

They took a long shower before heading down to the gym and going through their standard exercises. Harry was happy with his physical progress in that department. He'd been joining Tom in his morning exercises for months now, and it was really apparent. His accelerant potion had filled him out and given him some light muscle definition, but the daily work-out had improved it dramatically and given him some serious tone. He rather liked how he looked now, and from the lecherous looks Tom frequently sent him, and the waves of arousal, attraction, and lust he sensed over the link, he knew Tom liked it too.

And Tom... Tom was as beautiful as ever. Handsome. Tall, lean, toned, graceful, _fluid_ in his movements... _Perfect._

After their workout, Tom reminded Harry of the existence of the large bathtub that Harry had used in the ritual to remove his trace and suggested the pair of them relax in it together. Harry had eagerly agreed and the two had made their way down the hall and into the magically enlarged bathroom.

They relaxed in the hot, steamy room, soaking in the tub and quietly enjoying each other's company. They talked about various things. Goals; magical theories; their plans; what Harry would face once he had to go back to Hogwarts. At some point their talking had degenerated into a heavy snogging session in the tub with a lot of very intimate touching and another intense release for Harry.

Both wrinkled from the excessively long time spent in the tub, they climbed out, dried off, and dressed. They had skipped breakfast, but the house elves provided them a hearty brunch as soon as the pair entered the dining room. Towards the end of the meal, Mixey popped in informing them that Master Evan had several packages in his post and asking if she should deliver it to the table.

Tom told her to take the post to their bedroom instead.

Ten minutes later and Harry and Tom were entering their bedroom. Harry found a pile of packages, neatly stacked, on the floor in front of their bed and his eyes lit up and he made his way over to it. He easily plopped down onto the floor, sitting cross-legged beside the pile. Tom walked over casually, summoned the chair from Harry's desk and sat down in it, opposite Harry.

The first package Harry grabbed was from Ron. It was a broomstick maintenance kit and a book on Quidditch. Harry rolled his eyes slightly but still smiled a bit. The next one was a box from the twins that featured a number of 'sample prototypes' that they had been developing. It included a pair of extendable ears and instant darkness powder. Tom was mildly interested in the powder.

Ginny had sent Harry a box of sweets, and Hermione sent Harry a Rune Dictionary. The last box gave Harry pause. He recognized the writing on the label and felt a small pang. It was from Sirius.

Inside it was a second box, and a letter. Harry opened the box and found a small rod, the size of a muggle ballpoint pen, with a small glass ball on the end. Harry looked at it curiously, unsure what exactly it was. He opened the letter, hoping for an explanation, and a small scrap of paper fell out first.

Harry reached down and picked up the scrap of paper first and read it.

_'The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is located at 12 Grimmauld Place'_.

Harry looked at it with considerable confusion. Even more bewildering was the fact that it was clearly written in _Dumbledore's_ handwriting.

"What's that?" Tom asked.

"I have no idea," Harry said, handing the scrap of paper up to Tom. He took it and read it. Harry saw realization and excitement dawn in Tom's eyes as a wicked grin curled his lips. A wicked cackle suddenly escaped Tom's lips and Harry could feel amusement and triumph through their link.

"What is it?" Harry asked, smiling despite his confusion.

Tom settled his laughter and gave Harry a wide, wicked grin. "_This_, is a secret, from the _secret keeper's_ own hand."

Harry blinked once, still confused before a certain phrase registered with him. "Secret keeper?" Harry echoed, as his brows began to rise. "Are you talking about a Fidelius Charm?"

Tom was still grinning, victoriously, and he set the scrap of paper down on the table. "It would appear that Dumbledore cast the Fidelius over his headquarters and made himself the Secret Keeper. The only way for another person to _learn_ the secret, is if the Secret Keeper either tells that person the secret in person, or _writes it down_ and gives that piece of paper out. Then _anyone_ who reads the paper, learns of the secret."

Harry blinked and then looked down at the paper with minor awe. "We have the secret to the Order's headquarters?" he asked, stunned.

Tom cackled madly again, leaned back in his chair and relaxed with a smug grin. "Yes, it would seem so. This is from Black, yes? He sent a letter?"

Harry looked down at the letter that he still hadn't read and nodded his head and he unfolded it. "Yeah, it's from Sirius."

"I'm curious as to what he has to say..." Tom said as Harry began to read.

Harry's eyes traveled over the letter.

_Dear Stripe,_

_Padfoot here. I hope your summer has been alright. I really am sorry I couldn't be there for you, and that I haven't written before now. Things have been a little unstable for me, but that really is no excuse._

_Since he first sent out the letters trying to regather the Order, Dumbledore has had his sights set on a piece of family property I'm in control of to use as his headquarters. I was obviously hesitant at first, but I think my reluctance to help him out was starting to make him a bit suspicious. I want nothing to do with the damn house, so I went ahead and let him use the filthy hole. It was my childhood 'home', and I ran away from home when I was 15 and have no desire to ever go back. _

_So the old bastard has been pretty persistent in his attempts to get me to come in under his 'protection' all summer long. I think he was also hoping that me being there would help lure you in because he's repeatedly tried to guilt trip me into coming in by mentioning you. Obviously that didn't work any better than the 'you'll be safer' argument. I don't care if I'll be totally safe from the Ministry in that damn hellhole, I'm not going to be going and staying there, and I _know_ that Dumbledore doesn't have my best interests at heart with his suggestion that I come in._

_It's ideal for a Headquarters, of course. My father put every security measure known to wizardkind on it when he lived there. It's unplottable, so Muggles could never come and call - as if they'd ever have wanted to, but Dumbledore took it a step further and cast the Fidelius over it. I've included the house's addresses on the scrap of paper with this letter. It was written by Dumbledore himself, so once you've read it from that paper, you'll know the secret. Destroy it as soon as possible, so it doesn't go any further. I want you to have a place you can go in case things don't work out for you there, even if it is the hellhole I had to grow up in._

_In addition to the address to my childhood abode, I'm sure you also saw the box. Inside it is a Probitas Probe. Hold it and aim it in __someone's__ direction, twist the bottom of the rod and keep it aimed at them while that someone speaks to you. Twist the bottom again and the glass sphere on the end will either glow red or blue. If the person who was speaking was being honest, it will glow blue. If they were being dishonest, it will glow red._

_I would suggest making good use of it. _

_Anyway, Happy Birthday pup. I hope you're doing well, and you're able to enjoy your special day._

_With Love,_

_Padfoot_

Harry scowled down at the letter for a moment longer before turning his glare on the 'Probitas Probe' and rolling his eyes.

"What is it?" Tom asked, with a hint of concern in his voice.

Harry huffed and handed the letter over for Tom to read, not feeling like explaining it aloud. Tom's eyes raked over the page quickly. He scoffed lightly and sighed before setting it down and looking at the still disgruntled Harry.

"Why did he call you 'Stripe'?" Tom asked. Harry looked at him with confusion for a moment before the question really registered.

"Oh... it's my 'Marauder's' name." Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"Marauder's name?"

"You know – like Wormtail? It's the nicknames they used back when they were in school. The Marauders. My dad was Prongs because his animagus form was a stag. Sirius is Padfoot because his form is a big dog, and Lupin was Mooney because he's a Werewolf. We decided I'd be Stripe because of my supposed 'animagus form' of the striped sea krait."

"Ah. I see."

They fell quiet again and Tom set the letter down on the table. Harry scowled at it again.

"You can't expect him to really understand your situation," Tom finally said, breaking the silence.

Harry grimaced and looked away. "I know, it's just annoying. The first word I hear from him all summer and he's giving me a 'probe' so I can find out if you're lying to me, and a place to 'run away to'."

"You can't possibly expect _Sirius Black_ to trust _me_." Tom said with a hint of amusement.

"No, but I would at least expect him to trust _me_. I told him I trust you. That I know what I'm doing."

"He still sees you as a child, Harry. He's attempting to be a responsible adult for the first time in his pathetic adult life. I would assume this is his way of showing you that he... _cares."_ Tom sneered the word lightly and rolled his eyes.

Harry looked up and smirked lightly at Tom. He couldn't help but continue to smile at the realization that Tom was trying to comfort him.

Tom looked down at the table and picked up the Probitas Probe and examined it for a moment. "This is quite advanced," he mused quietly. "I wouldn't doubt this is a one-of-a-kind artifact. It was likely incredibly expensive."

Harry frowned at that. He knew that Sirius's family was loaded, but he doubted that Sirius actually had access to his family's fortune with his current status of 'fugitive'. But then again, Tom was able to get access to _his_ money, even though his vault was known as a war fund from the last war...

Harry was drawn from his musings as Tom twisted the bottom of the small pen-sized 'probe', and handed it back, handle-side facing Harry while keeping it aimed directly at Tom.

Harry took it with an air of confusion as he looked from the activated probe up to Tom.

"What –?" Harry began to ask but Tom cut him off.

"Harry, you know how I feel about blatant displays of... emotion. I don't _discuss_ my feelings," Tom sneered lightly in mild disgust but pressed on. "However today is special. Today you officially turn fifteen, and as much as it still unnerves me that you are so ridiculously young, I will freely admit that I have become unreasonably attached to you. You are mine, and I care for you more than I ever expected to care for anyone. More than I've ever cared for anyone else. You have become... _precious_ to me. I have every intention of keeping you by my side for a great, great, many years to come."

Tom sat back in his chair, apparently finished. Harry blinked, absolutely stunned by the admission. Tom made a gesture with his hand towards the probe, drawing Harry's attention back down to it. Harry hesitated for a moment before frowning. He looked up at Tom, who was looking expectantly at him.

"I don't need this. I don't need some stupid rod to prove anything to me." Harry said, still frowning.

Tom sighed in mild annoyance. "Just twist the damn bottom, Harry."

"I _trust_ you. I don't need this –"

"Just _do it,_ Harry."

Harry sighed and shook his head in exasperation as he grasped the small rod with both hands and twisted the bottom. A moment later the small glass ball on the end began to glow blue.

Despite his claims, Harry couldn't help but feel relieved at the sight. A small smile turned up the corners of his lips before he deactivated the probe and set it on the table.

"Thank you," Harry whispered quietly.

"Happy birthday, Harry." Tom said and Harry saw out of his peripheral vision as Tom reached into his pocket and pulled something out. Harry looked up to find Tom's outstretched hand holding a small black box, offering it to Harry. Harry stared at it for a moment before reaching out and taking it.

It looked like a small jewelry box with a hinge on one end. Harry looked up at Tom, and saw the other man watching him with a forced air of disinterest. Despite his outward appearance, Harry could sense a small bit of hesitant anxiety over their link. Harry turned his attention back to the box and opened it. Inside was what looked like a small charm. It was a tiny spade, the size of a sixpence, with the pointed end up and a small metal loop where it could be attached to a chain or something. Harry removed it from the box and examined it. One side was white, the other side as shiny black, applied onto the white base.

"It's ivory," Tom said and Harry looked up at him with mild confusion.

"It's beautiful," Harry said quietly. "Why a spade?"

"I've always been quite attached to the symbol if I'm being honest. I suppose all those years of playing poker down in the Slytherin common room may have had a hand in that."

Harry blinked. "Poker? As in _muggle_ poker?"

Tom chuckled and shrugged with an unapologetic look on his face. "Yes. I'll admit that I may have introduced it to my dorm mates. It was how I came by most of my spending money, actually. The stupid pampered rich boys always had plenty of their parents' money to lose to me, but refused to admit that they were incapable of mastering a simple _muggle_ game."

Harry chuckled and shook his head as he looked back down at the charm.

"The ace of spades is the best card in a deck. Out of all the suits, spades have the highest value. But outside of gambling purposes, spades represent winter and the power of darkness. In the Tarot, they symbolize intellect, action, air, and death." Tom explained.

Harry nodded his head slowly as he lightly ran his finger over the smooth black lacquered surface of the front of the charm. He could feel the hum of magic in it but was unsure what sort of magic it was, exactly.

"Does it do anything? I can feel magic in it..."

"It has two primary features. First, it will let me find you, no matter what wards you may be hidden behind."

Harry looked back up. "It won't work for anyone else though, right?"

"No. Only me. No one else will ever be able to use it to track you. In fact, it's secondary feature is that it also nullifies any other tracking spells cast upon you, the moment they try to take hold. It's a variation on the anti-tracking pendent we use when we leave the manor. It's not as powerful though, but you don't have leave it to recharge like the pendent. It will use the ambient magical energy of your body to remain powered."

Harry looked down at the small charm again and smiled softly. "I love it. Thank you."

"I wasn't sure how you would want to wear it, so I didn't include anything – only the charm. It could be put on a necklace, a bracelet... whatever you would prefer. It could be attached to whatever you want, as long as it will always remain on your person." Tom continued in a dismissive tone.

A light seemed to glow behind Harry's eyes and he grinned slightly. "I think I'd like it as an earring."

Tom raised a single brow. "You want to pierce your ear just for this?"

"Yeah, sure," Harry said with an eager nod.

"It'll be rather visible that way. Would you like me to disillusion it for you?"

"No. No, I'd like it visible. If anyone at Hogwarts asks, I can just say that 'Nick' gave it to me for my birthday. Simple. Obviously 'Evan' shouldn't have it visible, but it won't show up when I'm wearing the glamor ring anyway, right?"

"That's right. It may not be that simple to explain away the symbol though. The symbolism of a spade is clearly not Light. It is Dark and powerful."

Harry shrugged. "I can just tell them that 'Nick' is into poker and leave it at that. Most of them won't read too much more into it than that."

Tom nodded and then held his hand out, silently asking for the charm. Harry handed it over and watched as Tom snapped off a prong from a fork at the table and permanently transfigured it into the thin hook of an earring and another tiny loop. He attached the charm to the earring and handed it back.

Harry smiled at it softly before looking up at Tom rather sheepishly. "Can you help me er... pierce my ear?"

Tom smirked.

– –

AN: I put together a family tree of how the Gaunts connect to the Evans' and Harry since it's difficult to describe it in text. You can find the link on my Author Profile, or go here:

http / athey(dot)comyr(dot)com / storage / hp_darkness_Gaunt_Tree(dot)jpg


	10. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary: Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta Pass by tannne

AN: There is another one of those big soap-box sections in this chapter, and I'm sorry for it, but it's important later on.

Also, this chapter ended up coming a day later than I'd intended because I ended up adding an additional 5 pages in to it while I was re-reading it. Lol... The scene with Snape was just added, so it caused a delay.

Anonymous Review replies are at the end of the chapter

– –

Chapter 9

The following evening was an intermediate training session at the manor. It was also the night that Harry and Tom had decided to move forward with a plan regarding one particular new recruit.

It was nearing the end of the two hour long training session when Voldemort called out to one of the gathered Death Eaters.

"Krum!" he said in his high pitched voice that he only really used when in his Voldemort appearance, or when he was really, really angry.

The young Bulgarian tensed and turned instantly to face the front of the room. Harry, as Evan, stood to the side and watched. It was obvious that the man was instantly tense at having the Dark Lord singling him out.

"Yes, my Lord?" Krum said, standing at attention.

"Stay afterwards, I have a special assignment for you."

"Yes, of course, my Lord," Krum said, bowing low and waiting a moment until it was clear that was all Voldemort had to say before returning to the mock duel he had been participating in.

Ten minutes later the hall cleared out and everyone but Voldemort, Harry, and Krum had left. Voldemort stood from his throne-like chair at the head of the room where he often sat to observe. Harry came over and walked beside him as they began to make their way towards the doorway. Harry nodded his head at Krum to indicate that he should follow and the young man quickly followed behind them. They left the ballroom, went down the hall, and entered a sitting room.

Voldemort took a seat towards one side of the room and appeared to relax and wait. Krum looked at him with mild confusion and expectation for a moment. Voldemort motioned towards 'Evan Harris' as if to silently instruct Krum to defer to the other man. Krum instantly turned his attention on Harry, waiting expectantly.

"You may sit here," Harry said, indicating a stuffed armchair towards the center of the room, sitting opposite another empty chair, and half a room away from where Voldemort was currently sitting. Krum sat down stiffly. He held himself still and with perfect posture, but Harry could feel the nervous energy rolling off the man. Harry began to slowly orbit around the chair, waiting a moment before continuing.

"You are about to learn of a tremendous secret," Harry began. "One that must _not_, under _any circumstances_ go beyond this room. Is that understood?"

Krum's eyes flickered to the side, to look at the Dark Lord but quickly refocused on 'Harris'. "Yes, sir," he said with a determined nod.

"Good. I'll go fetch our _guest_, then." Harry turned and left the room, Krum watching him go with curiosity and confusion barely contained on his features.

Harry walked out the room, across the hall and into another room without even pausing. Once inside, he slipped the ring off his finger, slid it into his pocket, removed his outer robes and slipped on an extra pair he had left waiting for him in the room. He quickly fastened them closed in the front and pulled the large hood over his head so that it shadowed his face before turning and making his way back out the room and pausing for the briefest of moments at the door. This would be the first time since Snape that he would be revealing himself as _Harry Potter_ to a Death Eater.

He opened the door and took a few confident strides inside the room. Krum's eyes locked on him with carefully concealed curiosity. Harry went over and sat in the chair opposite Krum and slowly lowered his hood. He saw the _instant_ that Krum realized who he was and had to fight hard not to laugh at the Bulgarian seeker's startled reaction.

"Potter!" Krum exclaimed in shock. His head darted between Harry and the Dark Lord and back again, clearly bewildered. A quick glance from Harry to Voldemort, still sitting casually to the back of the room, showed Harry that the man was visibly amused, but hiding it admirably well.

"Vhat... vhat are _you_ doing here?" Krum asked Harry after a brief battle in his brain as he attempted to figure out what to say. "I thought..." Krum's voice trailed off as he looked over at the, still smirking, Dark Lord again.

"The Dark Lord and I have settled out differences," Harry said casually.

"Settled?" Krum echoed incredulously as he, once again, looked to the Dark Lord for some sort of confirmation. Clearly, the Dark Lord wasn't trying to hex the living shit out of Harry, so the two weren't on 'instant kill' standings any longer. And Harris had said he was going to go fetch their 'guest'.

"Yes, settled." Harry said with an amused smile. "I'm a Dark Wizard, Viktor. The Dark is where I belong. He and I are both unwitting victims of Albus Dumbledore's underhanded manipulations, and we came to the realization that it was far more beneficial if we cooperated in our efforts to bring down Dumbledore, rather than wasting time and energy fighting each other."

"_You_ are a Dark Vizard!" Krum exclaimed, still, clearly overwhelmed by the whole encounter.

Harry rolled his eyes, slowly switching from amusement to impatience. "Yes. Shall we move forward?"

Krum's jaw snapped shut and his eyes narrowed slightly in annoyance at Harry's tone. Finally, he nodded for Harry to continue.

"Alright then. During the coming school year, I intend to try and _woo_ some more of Hogwarts students to the Dark. Right now the only ones who practice the Dark Arts en mass are the Slytherins. The majority of the rest of the houses all easily fall in line with Dumbledore's Light Magic propaganda and dogma. This is compounded by the fact that many of these student's parents are alumni of Hogwarts, also under Dumbledore's reign. None of them has really even been exposed to any unbiased concepts of magic affiliation, and I hope to _broaden_ some of the student body's horizons. In secret, of course." Harry smirked.

Krum nodded slowly, starting to wonder what any of this had to do with him.

"One of the students who's 'horizons' I hope to broaden is Hermione Granger," Harry continued, and Krum's eyes widened. "Hermione is probably my biggest potential threat, as far as being found out and exposed to the faculty is concerned. She's bright and observant, and she's close to me. She's also nosy and doesn't know how to respect other people's boundaries or personal privacy. Such a clever girl can be either a boon, or a great hindrance to my efforts this year. If I don't take an active approach with her and try to continue what I did last year, I know that Hermione will be watching me like a hawk, and she will quickly begin to realize that something big is going on with me. If she starts digging into things that she shouldn't, it could cause me some serious troubles.

"My hope is that I can actually bring her into the fold, to some extent. Not all the way, of course. She's not ready to even consider the idea of siding with Voldemort. She's put too much of her belief into the authority system of the school for too long, and all these years she's been hearing nothing but 'Dumbledore is good and great and amazing' and the Dark Lord is an evil, murdering, psychopath who wants to massacre all the muggles and muggleborns. Obviously, Hermione isn't going to easily accept that all she's been told is wrong, or at least seriously skewed and biased. I hope to introduce the counter ideas to her, one at a time, until a time when she might actually be ready to be a bit more open minded about the whole Death Eater thing."

Harry paused and saw Krum looking thoughtful and slowly nodding his head.

"Obviously," Harry continued, "it benefits both of us if Hermione comes to be a bit less close-minded about the Dark Arts. I'm going to be working on her form my end, but I was hoping you could also try to work on her from your side as well."

"Vhat makes you tink dat I could influence her views?" Krum asked, looking skeptical.

Harry rolled his eyes. "She writes me letters, Viktor. Maybe you couldn't tell, but she's absolutely smitten with you. You're about the only thing she's written about all summer. She _usually_ writes about what books she's read, or what new things she's learned or seen. She went to bloody _Greece_ this summer and hardly even mentioned it in her letters. Hell, she practically sounded like a _girl_. It was... well, honestly, it was amusing. In any case, she absolutely fancies you. Trust me, you _can_ influence her views."

Krum's eyes were wide and Harry could actually see the faintest pink coloring the other boy's cheeks. Harry grinned.

"So, are you willing to assist me in this? It isn't an order from the Dark Lord or a duty as a Death Eater. This is a personal favor to me."

Krum blinked, looking confused again and he glanced over at Voldemort who was still sitting to the side of the room, looking very _bored. _Krum looked back at Harry and raised a single brow.

"I mean, _honestly, _think about it. Hermione wouldn't exactly appreciate it if she learned you were doing something like this on the Dark Lord's orders, would she?" Harry said rolling his eyes as if it were obvious. "If she did ever discover that you were trying to meld her views because of something the Dark Lord ordered you to do, she'd start to wonder if the whole relationship was just an act. A manipulation, and we both know that's not the case. I'm actually fairly sure you really do care about her, and I know she cares about you, so I don't want to go and ruin this for you. Still – for _me_, it would be a lot more convenient if I had another person whittling away at her preconceived notions about Light and Dark. _So_ if you're willing to work with me on this, I think we can all benefit. What do you say?"

"I..." Krum began to say but his voice died a bit and his brow furrowed as he apparently took a moment to think on it. He glanced hesitantly at the Dark Lord, who was now examining his long pale finger nails on his long thin fingers, looking to the entire world, extraordinarily bored. Krum looked back at Harry and sighed.

"She is very important to me," Krum said hesitantly and Harry nodded giving the older boy an encouraging gesture to continue. "Dis vell help to protect her, yes?"

"It certainly won't be a good boon to her health and well-being if she's causing me trouble, and if she's on our side, she won't be causing me trouble, so yes, it will help protect her if we can get her to open her mind a bit on the subject. I also imagine it will help you a lot as far as being in a relationship with her is concerned. I mean, _you're a Death Eater_. Having a Light Witch for a girlfriend is going to cause some difficulties in the relationship department."

Krum gave a slightly defeated sigh and bowed his head while nodding it slightly. "Yes, dis has been troubling me for quite some time..."

"I imagine," Harry said with a mild grin.

"I vas even more vorried zince she iz so close to _you_. I thought... vell, you know. You are zhe boy-who-lived. I had assumed dat you vere on Dumbledore's side. I vill admit that knowing you and I are on zhe same side is reassuring. Perhaps it is not so hopeless..."

"So you'll help? I mean, really, I'm just asking you to do what you probably would have been trying to do anyway. Opening her mind. Showing her the other side of the argument. Hermione is a very clever girl. If she sees that there is more to an issue than she's been shown, she'll want to learn as much about it as possible. I think if we approach this properly, it won't be too hard to get her questioning Dumbledore's dogma."

Krum nodded his head slowly and finally looked back up. "Okay. Yes, I vill help. Vhat should we do first?"

– –

It was August 2nd and Harry was sitting in a rather comfortable chair, opposite the Minister for Magic in a quaint little restaurant, in a magical village about 40 miles south of London. Fudge was unaware of it, of course, but Tom, in yet another random glamor, was sitting several tables away, seemingly reading a book and occasionally sipping his tea. In reality, he was listening in and maintaining privacy charms over them.

The pair had already had lunch and conversation had centered a lot on Harry's interview with the Prophet, and all of the political repercussions that had come from it. Even in the very short span of time that had passed since that day, there were already several higher up Ministry officials and members of the Wizengamot working on a few bills that would start rewriting how the Ministry would handle magical children and orphans. Harry was definitely pleased and the Minister seemed secretly thrilled since it was such a popular issue among the magical populace at the moment and he was getting a mountain of good press for supporting it and having had such public ties to Harry Potter that summer. Harry had heard from Lucius' reports that Fudge was so far up in the polls right now that the election would be a cake-walk for the man to win.

Anything that made you look pro-children was almost always a win with the public. The purebloods liked it because it was clearly a step towards controlling the muggleborn population, and even the more middle-class members of magical society liked it because it was pro-children and pro-family. Protecting our wizarding youth and all that. It was great political publicity for Fudge and he was eager to back it and be publicly supporting the Boy-Who-Lived.

Harry even told Fudge that the next time he did an interview with the Prophet he would make sure to mention how grateful he was that Fudge had been so helpful and supportive.

Their meal was quickly eaten and gone and the conversation moved onto other topics. Harry mentioned that he _still_ hadn't gotten his Hogwarts letter, even though they were usually sent out in mid-July, and Fudge went on to grumble about how Dumbledore _still_ hadn't found a Defense teacher, and that he was getting hounded on several fronts to take a more active role in the issue, and being so supportive in his response to both Harry's plight, as well as those of the wizards who's stories Harry had forwarded to the Prophet and the Ministry from all the people who had written him after the article was published.

Harry silently smirked as he took the easy opening he had been looking for. The discussion and topics he wanted to broach during this meeting were of an admittedly sensitive nature, but Harry had it all planned out, exactly how he was going to approach the topic. Yet he knew that a little added motivation would help and had come prepared. He glanced over at Tom and caught his eye. He nodded subtly and Tom nodded back. He withdrew his wand discreetly and cast a tripping jinx on the waitress who was walking directly behind the Minister at that moment. The women went falling to the ground along with the tray of food and drinks she was carrying. The Minister jumped to his feet at the startling ruckus and turned to look at the scene. As he was distracted, Harry quickly reached across the table and poured the contents of a tiny potion vial into the Minister's tea.

The whole distraction only lasted a minute while the girl quickly began to clean up the mess and spell away the spills. She was blushing with embarrassment the whole while, and spent several seconds apologizing profusely to the Minister for disrupting his meal and asking if she had gotten anything on him.

While annoyed, the Minister was rather kind and reassuring to the girl and the whole thing finally settled down and Harry and the Minister sat at the table for a quiet moment, recovering from the disruption.

"Now... where were we?" Fudge asked, giving Harry his best fake-calm politician's smile as he reached down and took a drink from his tea. Harry smiled inwardly as the man drank his tainted tea. The potion, which Severus had actually brewed for them, was odorless and fairly mild, in general. What it did was make a person more susceptible to suggested ideas. Nothing quite as extreme as mind control, but as long as that person would normally, within reason, be able to consider such ideas, they would easily believe them, and be utterly convinced of their truth. Which was really all Harry needed.

He began to talk about a number of things about Hogwarts, its staff and curriculum, that Harry had been finding lacking lately, as well as his own forays into independent study over the summer and the previous year to prepare for the tournament.

Fudge asked Harry how that was going, since he had mentioned in their last tea that he was studying Runes and Arithmancy over the summer and transferring into those classes in the fall. Harry told him that it was going great and he had been enjoying it a lot. He'd had a couple private tutors who came to the manor he was staying at that summer, and they'd all been brilliant.

"In addition to all that, I've been doing a lot of study on magical history lately," Harry began after setting down his drink. "Not just the sort of history that's actually covered in school – because, honestly? That's basically a worthless class. I'd say that Binns' Magical History class has been more detrimental than most others at the school have. History is _important_. If you don't know about past mistakes, how can you make sure you don't repeat them? What value is there in a mistake being made if no one learns from it? You know? But no one studies history at Hogwarts anymore. Binns' class is _so boring, _and covers the most worthless aspects of history that the majority of the student body uses it as nap time. I would be willing to bet that hardly anyone who comes out of Hogwarts actually goes all the way to NEWTs History, and if they do take the class, I doubt they pass the test. He makes the prospect of studying history, so _horrifying_ that no one even considers delving deeper into it, and what he does cover is just an incredibly vague overview of the least useful bits.

"But anyway, I ended up delving into some ancient magical history in my search to better understand what led up to the last war. Dark Lords and the whole argument over blood. I wanted to understand that stuff because it's had such a huge impact on my life, and yet I was totally ignorant of it because of my muggle upbringing.

"But there's this whole ancient magical knowledge that has practically been lost to everyone. The truth about what a Dark Lord really is. For the last few years, I just assumed it was a title that You-Know-Who gave himself – sort of an ego thing, you know? Or it was an 'I'm a really powerful dark wizard, so I'm going to call myself a Dark Lord' sort of deal. I didn't realize that Dark Lord _meant something_. That it's a real title, bestowed upon a chosen individual by Magic itself. Something you have to earn and prove yourself worthy for."

Harry paused at Fudge's widened eyes. "See? You didn't even know, did you? No one really realizes these things anymore because we've lost track of our history. But what I found really interesting is that while there's a Dark Lord, there's also a _Light Lord_. Two different Lords of Magic, each chosen and given a task. It's their job to keep magic balanced, and to protect and safeguard all of the witches, wizards, and creatures who fall under their designated affinity. The Dark Lord is supposed to fight for the Dark Wizards and the Dark Magical Creatures, while the Light Lord is supposed to do the same for the Light Witches and Wizards and Creatures. Although more often than not, the Magical Lords have just ended up using their position and influence to try and gain more power for themselves...

"But it goes even deeper. Because they're designated by _Magic_, all people and creatures with a light or dark affinity are naturally _drawn_ towards their respective Lord. Those with a dark magical affinity are drawn to the Dark Lord. They feel compelled to serve him. To respect and revere him. That's how he managed to get all of those really powerful and influential wizards who would normally _never_ stoop to kiss the robes of another wizard, to follow him. Magic compelled them to do so."

"You really think so?" Fudge said in a quiet, and somewhat stunned voice.

"I'm sure of it. All of my research confirms it. But this all lead me to another realization... a _sinister_ realization."

Fudge's eyes widened and he leaned in close, clearly intrigued and interested in what Harry had to say.

"It's the same for Light Wizards. When a person has a light magical affinity, they feel compelled to respect, follow, and submit to the Light Lord. You know that You-Know-Who was the Dark Lord, but do you realize who the Light Lord is?"

The Minister shook his head slowly, but Harry could see the cogs turning behind the man's eyes as he began to suspect.

"Albus Dumbledore," Harry said in a hard low tone. "Dumbledore is the Light Lord of Magic."

Fudge's lips parted slightly and Harry could see the amalgam of different emotions as they played out on the older man's face. But he could also see the Fudge believed him completely. That the Minister was completely willing to accept this, even without additional proof. One of the wonderful effects of that lovely little potion.

"So this brings me back to my point on the quality of education at Hogwarts," Harry said after he'd given the Minister a minute to think. "Do you realize that Hogwarts is the only one of the Magical schools in Europe and Asia that has a 'Defense Against the _Dark Arts'_ class? The others have 'Magical Defense' and 'Defense against Hostile Magic' and 'Defense', but Hogwarts is the only one that specifies that it's defending against 'Dark' Magic. Defending against dark creatures and dark spells. But _light_ creatures can be dangerous too. And there are loads of Light magic spells that can be used offensively too. And _countless_ Neutral magical spells are offensive and require defending against. We even _cover_ those things, but the class is still called Defense Against the _Dark Arts._ It's to progress the stigma that Dark Magic is our enemy. That Dark Magic is the evil and we all need to fear it.

"The truth of the matter is that Dark does not equal evil and Light does not equal good. Everything is gray in reality, and one's magical affinity does not necessarily dictate their actions or their moral standing.

"Hogwarts is the only magical school that teaches only Neutral and Light magic. Beauxbatons teaches the theory to _all_ magical affinities, but only covers practical study of Neutral Magic, leaving the teaching of a Light or Dark affinity to the parents since it's generally considered a family choice or tradition. Durmstrang actually teaches all affinities – offering classes in Light, Dark, and Neutral Magic – although the Light and Dark courses are electives, not mandatory. Mandatory are the defense courses that cover defending against _all_ offensive magic's and creatures. This trend continues in all of the other magical schools I've researched.

"But Hogwarts villainizes Dark Magic while teaching Light spells without even telling the students that they're practicing spells of that affinity. The Light magic is intermingled with the Neutral Magic without even _warning_ the students. And it's mandatory to learn them! Mandatory as part of the curriculum to practice these spells. Practicing Light Magic affects a person's affinity, no matter what, especially when they're young and their magical core is just developing. The more students practice Light affinity spells, the more likely they are to gain a Light affinity. The stronger their affinity towards the Light is, the more and more magic will _compel them_ to feel loyal and respectful of the Light Lord. Do you see what I'm getting at here?"

The sudden, dawning _horror_ on Fudge's face was almost comical, but Harry held his expression serious.

"Dumbledore has slowly been shifting the curriculum of Hogwarts more and more towards the Light, while totally eradicating all traces of Dark for decades. After the last war, everyone was terrified of the idea of a Dark Lord, so they were eager to acquiesce to any suggestions of eradicating Dark anything from the schools and for the Ministry to openly support Light Magic while denouncing Dark Magic, despite our valued traditions and the old beliefs of magical equality and balance. People were terrified and so they over-compensated. Because of that, there is now a _serious_ imbalance in the magical composition of Great Britain. The Light has grown disproportionately strong, and the one person who is truly going to benefit from all of it, is the _Light Lord_.

"Magical Lords live even longer lives than regular wizards. A Dark Lord from the 1300s called Lord Moristan lived to see 280! Dumbledore may seem 'old' at over 150, but he could still have a long time to go before he kicks the bucket. He's been biding his time. Slowly setting it up so that he'll have generations of wizards in Britain with Light affinities to follow him into whatever he wants. Willing to do anything he tells them, without question. Most of these people see him as near god-like. People practically worship the man, and everyone respects him because he's bloody _Dumbledore_.

"What happens if he decides to take his 'greater good' to Europe and beyond? He already has all that power with his position in the International Wizard's Confederation. But what happens when that's not enough for him anymore? He could start a wizarding war, claiming to cleanse the rest of the magical world of the Dark's evil taint. The man just wants power and control. He's _dangerous!_ And allowing the education at Hogwarts to remain so biased and one-sided is only going to keep producing his own, personal army of pure Light Wizards, all willing to throw their lives away for their _Master_."

"Good Merlin, I never realized..." Fudge gasped in quiet horror. "I never thought it went so far... that he... oh my..."

"Did you know that Merlin was a magical Lord?" Harry asked, seeing an opening.

Fudge's head jerked up and he looked confused for a moment. It was quite a jump in topics. "He... what?"

"Merlin. He was one of the first wizards that Magic deemed a Lord."

"Oh... that's... interesting," Fudge said, slowly; still obviously confused as to what this had to do with what they'd just been talking about.

"No, what's _interesting_ is that Merlin was a _Dark_ Lord."

Fudge's jaw dropped. "What? Where on earth did you hear such a preposterous –"

"It's true! And honestly, there are a lot of things to back it up, not just the ancient books I've read. It's recorded history that Merlin was a _Cambion_. His father was an Incubus! A _Demon_, Minister Fudge. _A Demon._ His mother was a mortal human muggle, but his father was a Dark Creature. He was a _Dark_ Wizard and the first _Dark_ Lord, designated by Magic itself to watch over the other Dark Wizards and the Dark Creatures. The first Light Lord was Morgan le Fey – the daughter of a human and an elven Fey – a _Light_ Creature. You see – this is why I say that remembering our history is _so important!_ People forget these important details and lose sight of what's really true, and what is just biased propaganda leaving them open to be manipulated by people like Dumbledore.

"Dumbledore has been fighting for so long to push the idea that all things Dark are evil, and yet everyone respects Merlin. Everyone realize what a great and powerful wizard he was. Our neglect of our history has allowed us to forget what he really was. That he was a Dark Wizard. Allowing ourselves to forget these truths has only made it that much easier for Dumbledore to push his ideals upon the masses and gain power, and to do it while everyone _thinks_ he's fighting for them, and for their sakes, and to protect the good in the world. All he's really doing is gaining _power_ for himself. For _his_ goals. He's devious in that he can do all these horrible things and no one realizes it, and those that do see some of what he's really doing behind the scenes, are so loyal to him that they're willing to turn a blind eye and claim that he must have his reasons. Dumbledore is _dangerous._" Harry finished in a quiet hiss.

Fudge's eyes were unfocused as he stared down at the table between them. He was slowly nodding his head with that same horrified look on his face.

"He is... but... but what can we do? Something must be done!" Fudge said with an almost desperate tone. Harry thought it was almost comical that the _Minister of Britain's Wizarding World_ was apparently relying on the advice of a fifteen year old boy, but kept his amusement to himself and pressed on quickly.

"We need to start trying to counteract some of the damage he's doing at Hogwarts. Power over the youth is power over the future. That's his plan, I'm sure of it. He's already got several generations of students behind him, but we can at least try and counteract some of what he's done to the current one. Start some educational reforms. Force some of the more neutral Dark Magics back into the curriculum like it's supposed to be, to balance out the Light Magic being taught. If students are practicing both Light and Dark spells, the two will cancel each other out and keep their affinities neutral so that they can't feel compelled by magic to choose a side. Only their free will can dictate that."

"Teach the Dark Arts in the school? The public would never go for that!" Fudge gasped.

"Then don't_ tell them_ that's what's going on," Harry said, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. "You think they'd approve if they realized that Dumbledore has been forcing the Light Arts down their children's throats without any parental consent? Really powerful Light Magic can be just as addictive as the Dark stuff."

"But how could we get any Dark Magic in the school at all?" Fudge asked, bewildered.

"You said it yourself that Dumbledore has been having trouble getting a teacher for the DADA position this year, right? Well pass a magical decree stating that the Ministry can assign someone for the position since Dumbledore has failed to fill the post. Get someone you approve of in there. Someone who won't push Dumbledore's Light Lord propaganda. Then start an educational review. Get someone whose impartial from the Ministry to come in and check on the quality of education Britain's magical youth is receiving. Binns' isn't even remotely acceptable as a teacher. He needs to be sacked and a _real, living,_ history instructor brought in. Trelawney is a fraud and she's made Divination a joke subject. Muggle Studies is taught by a pureblood wizard who doesn't know a damn thing about muggles – I mean, most wizards – event those who've taken _muggle studies_, don't even realize that muggles have gone to the moon, or what a nuclear bomb even is. It's pathetic. And those are just the first few things that come to mind, I'm sure a legitimate educational inquisition could turn up all sorts of dishonest things that Dumbledore has pushed through under the noses of the magical public."

Fudge was nodding his head rather vigorously now. "Your right. Absolutely right! We must put a stop to all of this, and as soon as possible! You're idea about placing someone with the proper ideas in the Defense Professor position is a good one. Of course, we'll have to figure out who..."

"I _may_ have a suggestion on that front, actually –" Harry said, as a small grin managed to creep onto his lips.

"Oh?"

"Yes. I think I've got _just_ the man. You know how I mentioned I've had some private tutors this summer? Well this man has years of experience as a private defense tutor and he's even a dueling champion. He's a brilliant teacher."

Fudge perked up with an obvious interest and Harry had to fight to keep the feral smile from his face that so desperately wanted to appear that. This was just _too easy..._

– –

Tom and Harry both agreed that that couldn't possibly have gone any better than it had. That evening, Voldemort told Thor, Barty, and Lucius to stay after the training session. He and 'Evan' informed Thorfinn that the Minister would likely be contacting him with a job offer as soon as he was officially able to move forward on pushing his own personal selection into the role of Defense Professor for Hogwarts. Lucius was instructed that, if the Minister asked him his opinion on a choice for the Defense position, since Lucius was not only a frequent adviser to the Minister, but he was also on the Hogwarts Board of Governors, that he was to recommend and praise Thorfinn Rowle and put forth his own recommendation that Rowle be selected for the position.

Thor seemed slightly stunned at first, at the prospect of teaching all seven years worth of Hogwarts students, but was also clearly a bit proud that he had been selected by the Dark Lord to do something that he knew Voldemort considered important.

Lucius was dismissed and Barty was told to prepare notes from his experience having taught Defense at Hogwarts the previous year and to meet with Thor to help the man prepare for the task. Barty was also instructed to complete a list of any and all students that he remembered who he thought had a dark affinity, a list of all students he thought might be open-minded enough to willingly accept learning Dark Magic, and a list of which students would likely pose the most trouble. He offered Barty use of his Pensieve if he had trouble remembering certain names or individuals.

They arranged a time in the next few days for Barty to come to make use of it, and then scheduled a meeting for when Barty and Thor would meet to discuss the defense job.

Finally, everyone was dismissed, leaving only Harry and Voldemort, Nagini, Hedwig, and the house elves, in the manor. Harry and Voldemort retired to the study, Voldemort reverted to his normal appearance and Nagini slithered in, quickly coming to relax across Harry's lap as the younger wizard sprawled himself side-ways across a lounger that had been added to the room some weeks earlier. He had a book in his lap and he read it while aimlessly scratching the scales directly behind Nagini's head with his fingers.

After some time he felt Tom's gaze on him and he glanced up at the elder wizard with a curious look. Tom _was _watching him. His red eyes were locked on him intently and a small smirk curled the corners of his lips.

"Something up?" Harry asked, setting the book down.

Tom shook his head, smiling a bit before relaxing in his chair. "Just watching you. You sometimes make rather amusing facial expressions when you read."

Harry blinked and felt his cheeks grow a tad bit warm before he squashed the ridiculous response. He would not be _embarrassed_ by something like that.

"Um... okay," Harry said, ducking his head and feeling rather stupid and awkward. Tom chuckled.

– –

Severus Snape had just returned to the castle after a grueling session of training at the Dark Lord's manor. He made his way through the castle, down into the dungeons and quickly made his way into his personal quarters, intent on calling it a night. He was _exhausted_. The Dark Lord had high expectations for those Death Eaters who had been placed in the 'Advanced' group – which, of course, included Severus, so the sessions were long and strenuous, and often lasted four hours and almost always left him sore and exhausted afterwards.

He entered his quarters, flicked his wand to light his fireplace and sat down heavily into a wing-backed chair several feet in front of it. He let his head fall against the back of the chair, and his eyes were just about closed when the fire in front of him suddenly flashed green, and in it appeared the head of the last man he wanted to deal with at that moment.

"Ah, Severus! The wards alerted me that you had returned. Good, good. I hope this isn't a bad time, but I would really appreciate it if you would join me in my office." the head of Albus Dumbledore spoke with a genial smile.

Severus grimaced and flinched subtly when he tried to sit back up in his chair and the soreness of his side suddenly reminded him of the training dummy's stinging hex that had caught him off guard an hour earlier. He glared down at the fire, utterly despising the smiling old man in it and only barely refraining from snapping at the man right out and refusing Dumbledore's request. He didn't of course. He was a professional.

He heaved an annoyed sigh and pushed himself to his feet.

"Of course, Albus. I'll be there in a few minutes." Severus said evenly.

Dumbledore's face in the fire smiled and his eyes twinkled merrily. "Ah good. Good. See you in just a few minutes."

Severus' lip curled in distaste, but he didn't say anything further and instead strode out of his door and began to make the trek up the far-too-numerous stairs to the seventh floor where the Headmaster's Office was located.

When he got to the gargoyle, he spoke the password, _Mars Bars_, and climbed the ascending spiral stairs before pulling open the large brass door handle and entering the headmaster's office.

"You wanted to discuss something with me?" Severus asked in a flat, bored voice.

"Ah yes. Thank you for making the journey all the way up here, dear boy. I realize that it's quite late, but I have something rather important that I wish to discuss with you. Please, have a seat."

Snape gave a curt nod and fluidly came around the chair sitting opposite Dumbledore's desk and sat down.

Dumbledore sat up in his chair and steepled his hands together on his desk, waiting a moment before piercing Severus with his bright blue eyes and speaking. "You just returned from a summons? You don't look well, my boy. Were you cursed?" Dumbledore finished with a deeply concerned look to his eyes.

"I did just return from a summons, but the _Dark Lord _did not curse me."

"Then what happened?"

"The Dark Lord has begun training sessions for his small group of followers. He fears that far too many of them became fat and lazy during his absence and has insisted that we come to participate in mock duels to sharpen our skills."

Dumbledore frowned deeply and looked down at his desk, with a thoughtful, calculating expression. Slowly he nodded his head and refocused on Severus.

"I have a few matters to discuss with you. First, has the Dark Lord spoken to you at all in regards to the prophecy?"

"No, he has not. It hasn't come up even once in any of my meetings with him." Severus easily gave the answer that the Dark Lord had told him to use, should this topic come up.

Dumbledore frowned slightly but seemed to accept it.

"Alright. Please let me know right away if that changes. Aside from that matter, I need you to tell me everything that you have learned, thus far about the man named Evan Harris."

Severus blinked, but made no other outward display of his surprise. He wasn't sure why Dumbledore was choosing _now_ to suddenly display an interest in the Dark Lord's apprentice, but that wouldn't really change much. He had been told by the Dark Lord that he could answer any of Dumbledore's questions regarding Harris without much hesitation. The truth of the matter was that he hadn't really had much exposure to the man yet, so that wasn't much to tell.

"I don't know much," Severus began. "He seems young. Perhaps somewhere around twenty, yet surprisingly talented for his age. He is a remarkably skilled dueler..." he hesitated, wondering if he should mention the duel he had witnessed the other night. "During the training session one of the Death Eaters was idiotic enough to insult Harris and insinuate that we had seen nothing of his skill, so why should any of us follow his lead. After he was thoroughly cursed as punishment for his insolence, the Dark Lord took Harris to the head of the hall and the two dueled as a demonstration of the younger man's skills."

Dumbledore's eyes widened and his back straightened with interest. "Go on."

Severus paused, briefly remembering the incredible duel he had witnessed the previous week. He still questioned whether he had really seen what he had seen. He had to admit, while before he had only been mildly curious as to why the Dark Lord had decided to take on an apprentice, after witnessing the duel, he was deeply intrigued. The young man was powerful, skilled, and could go head-to-head with the Dark Lord.

"It was a very impressive demonstration. I would have to admit that he's probably one of the more talented duelers I have ever witnessed in person, aside from the Dark Lord himself. He managed to dodge, block, or counter every spell the Dark Lord sent his way, and sent some undeniably powerful curses back. None connected, of course. In fact, in the end, neither had been hit even once. It was obvious that the two were very familiar with each other's dueling style and read each other's moves as soon as they were cast, if not before. I would estimate that the Dark Lord has been personally training him for some time now."

Dumbledore's brow furrowed and he nodded his head slowly.

"That is most concerning. Having such a powerful unknown factor suddenly introduced..." Dumbledore said in a quiet thoughtful voice. He looked back up at Severus. "What can you tell me of him and Voldemort's interactions. Does Voldemort seem to treat him... _differently_?"

Severus frowned, unsure what Dumbledore might be getting at. "He treats him with a level of respect I don't often see..." he paused, letting his mind go over the times he had seen Harris and the Dark Lord speaking and interacting during the training sessions, and the meetings that he had attended that Harris had also been to. Most of Severus' meetings with the Dark Lord were private meetings. He and the Dark Lord alone, while he gave his reports on Dumbledore and the Order. However, he had attended a few group meetings and Harris was always there.

"I suppose I have noticed a few things that seemed a bit odd," Severus said, finally.

"Oh?"

"The Dark Lord seems to _ask_ Harris to do things, more often than _ordering_ him. There is still no question that the task is expected to be done, however it is the tone of voice and the way the request is made that seems somewhat... out of character, for the Dark Lord."

Again, Dumbledore's face took on a pensive, thoughtful expression as he nodded his head, taking in the Potion Master's words.

"And nothing else?" Dumbledore asked.

"Nothing specific that I have noticed. I have had only minimal exposure to the man. As you know, most of my interactions with the Dark Lord have been private meetings with only him and me."

"Yes, yes, of course." Dumbledore said.

Severus looked, long and hard, at the aging wizard sitting across from him, trying to work out in his mind what this might be about. Finally he decided to simply ask.

"May I inquire as to why you ask about him? Is there something about Harris that I should know? That I should watch for?"

Dumbledore looked contemplative for a moment. "Yes, I suppose you should know. But first, I have one more question."

"Alright."

"What does Voldemort _look like_, right now?"

Severus frowned, confused by the question. "The same as he did at the end of the last war."

"Not young? Not _human?_" Dumbledore asked.

Severus blinked at that. "Human? No. His skin is pale white with a scaled texture to it. His head is bald, his features reptilian. Eyes red and slitted. Same as before."

"Hmm..." Dumbledore made a humming noise in the back of his throat.

"Why do you ask?"

"I believe that Lord Voldemort has found a way to restore his human features. Either at will for perhaps for designated periods of time. I did not sense any glamors, but he could have been using more complex means than the standard, and they are much harder to detect without using specialized spells. I did not have the opportunity to check..."

"Are you saying that you encountered the Dark Lord?" Severus blanched.

"I did. It was a very brief encounter, and quite unexpected, on both our parts. I wouldn't exactly describe it as a pleasant visit, but we did briefly speak on a few things. I came upon Voldemort – although I would be far more inclined to call him by his old name, _Tom_, seeing as that was how he looked – while he and Mr. Harris were rather passionately engaged with each other."

It took Severus several long moments before he could even begin to wrap his mind around what the mad old wizard had just said.

"I'm sorry... what?"

"They were kissing." Dumbledore said simply with a small calm grin.

"They..." Severus' voice faltered. "Are you sure it was the Dark Lord?"

"Oh, I'm quite sure. I would recognize him anywhere. I was his teacher for seven years, after all, and we did have quite a discussion after he and his companion had noticed I was there."

"And where, exactly, did you happen to just stumble upon them?" Severus asked, still feeling utterly dumbstruck.

"I believed I had identified the location of Voldemort's manor and went to investigate. It is under heavy wards and, even though I am sure it is there, I cannot see it, or have any access to it. It would take a tremendous effort to break down the wards, and a very large group to amount an assault. But none the less, I am at least sure of its location. I was investigating the area when I happened to stumble upon Tom and Evan Harris sharing a rather heated embrace. After they had discovered me there, I insisted upon introductions and Tom introduced Mr. Harris as his _partner_. Not his _apprentice."_

Severus' jaw was actually hanging open and bit, and if he had any idea how utterly stunned he looked, he would have been horrified.

Dumbledore chuckled. "I must admit, I had a similar reaction."

Severus snapped his jaws shut and scowled. He had no idea what to make of this latest revelation. Should he even tell the Dark Lord that Dumbledore had told him? Would the Dark Lord be angry if Severus knew about his personal affairs in such a way?

Severus realized that he had never heard of his Lord ever taking any of the Death Eaters to bed, even though, over the years in the last war, there were many who were more than willing, and several who actually had the gall to come right out and make the offer. He had to admit that some portion of his mind simply saw the Dark Lord as asexual. He had trouble imagining anyone being intimate in any way with a man who looked the way the Dark Lord did, anyway. He exuded raw, undeniable power, and that power was highly attractive, but physically the Dark Lord was a bit too terrifying to look at to imagine being intimate with him. Although if what Dumbledore said was true, his Lord apparently possessed the ability to look human as well.

But... _Harris_? Evan Harris was his Lord's... _lover_?

This put a whole new perspective on things.

The looks they shared. The subtle smirks he had seen his Lord send the other man. Harris always showed the Dark Lord an acceptable level of deference in front of the Death Eaters, but he never bowed as low, or showed nearly the amount of reverence that was normal, and yet he was never cursed for it, or reprimanded in any way. The Dark Lord gave him far more leeway than anyone else. Severus had assumed it was because of the high position the young man held, but perhaps it was actually this?

_Lovers?_

The mere idea made his whole body feel mildly ill. It was nearly impossible for him to imagine his Lord even being capable of being intimate. There was no doubt that his Lord would not be a gentle caring lover. It simply wasn't the way the man worked. It almost felt blasphemous to imagine the man as capable of being _loving_.

A shudder ran down his spine. It was just too much to contemplate right now. He would definitely be watching their interactions more closely from now on...

"Was there anything else you needed, Albus?" Severus asked, as he finally managed to pull himself out of his thoughts.

"No, I suppose there wasn't anything else. I would appreciate it if you would try to learn as much about this Harris person as possible though."

"Yes... of course."

"Good, good. Well thank you, Severus. I know you must be tired and eager to get to bed."

"Yes... I am."

"Good night."

Severus gave a curt nod in return, stood up from the chair and left. Despite his physical exhaustion, he wondered if he'd truly be able to sleep tonight after such a shocking revelation.

– –

"Hey Tom?" Harry called out lightly. The two of them were in the study again, the following day. Harry was sitting cross-legged on the lounge, hunched over a small stack of parchment in his lap, each page was marked with the Gringotts' emblem at the top-center. Tom was sitting in his wing-backed chair behind his desk, going over several reports from his Death Eaters.

"Yes, Harry?" Tom replied, somewhat distractedly.

"You know how I got that full account statement from Gringotts the day after my birthday?"

"Yes?"

"Well, I've been looking through it and... well, I own a lot of property."

Tom looked up, his brows mildly furrowed. "So?"

"A couple of them look promising."

"Promi...?" Tom cut himself off, catching on instantly. "You mean for headquarters?" he asked, somewhat surprised by the suggestion.

"Yeah. Apparently there's some huge castle in Ireland that's unplottable, and so heavily warded I'll have to speak with my account manager to gain access to an object – a special ward keystone – from the family vault, if I want to access the house and get keyed into the protections there. It requires Potter blood to activate it for the first time and switch control of the wards over to me. Then I'll be able to do it without the keystone and make adjustments from there. Anyway, from the description in the papers, it sounds huge. It's got multiple wings and is on some huge plot of land with gardens. I think it's worth looking into at least."

Tom looked thoughtful for a moment, slowly nodding his head. "Dumbledore certainly wouldn't be expecting it."

"And no one even knows about this place anymore. Not really. Apparently it's sat empty for about forty years. By the looks of it my grandfather on the Potter side grew up there, but once his parents died and he got married, he moved out and left it empty. So the last Potter that actually lived in it was Charlus Potter."

Tom made a slightly amused sound in his throat, causing Harry to look up curiously. "What?"

"Nothing really. I went to school with him."

Harry blinked. "Who? Charlus Potter?"

Tom rolled his eyes. "_Yes_, Charlus Potter. He was four years ahead of me. He was Head Boy when I was a fourth year."

Harry stared blankly at Tom for a long minute before smiling and shaking his head. "It is oddly easy for me to forget just how old you are sometimes."

"Fortunately, it is just as easy for me to disregard how _young_ you are," Tom replied with an arched brow and a smirk. "Now back to this house. Are you really sure you're willing to do this? If we did end up using it, it would become our primary headquarters, and _when_ we are successful in taking Azkaban, those who we break out will be residing there most likely, full-time."

Harry shrugged. "I'm fine with that. By the description the place is way too large for me to consider ever living in it alone. I apparently own plenty of other places – a couple cottages, a beach house, and of course what's left of the house in Godric's Hollow is still mine."

Tom continued to look thoughtful and slowly nodded his head. "It's certainly worth investigating. We can pay Gringotts a visit this week and go from there."

– –

On the morning of August 7th Harry's Hogwarts letter was included with his morning post from Mixey. Harry and Tom had already known that their plan had been successful. Thor had been contacted by Fudge, asking if he would be willing and able to fill the position, should the Ministry be forced to fill the post, since Dumbledore had still failed to do so. Thor had readily agreed. The day after that Educational Decree #22 was passed at the Ministry stating: 'In the event of the current Headmaster being unable to provide a candidate for a teaching post, the Ministry should select an appropriate person.' And of by the end of the day, that person was Thorfinn Rowle. That had been yesterday. Thor, having been prepared for this, was able to get his textbook list to the Headmaster right away, and thus – the letters had finally gone out.

Harry opened his letter and Tom watched as surprise washed across the younger wizard's face and across their link.

"What is it?" Tom asked, setting down the morning Prophet and focusing on Harry more fully.

"I've been made prefect," Harry said in a stunned tone. It was the last thing he had been expecting. His grades had improved tremendously during his fourth year, and his extracurricular activities had all stayed beyond his professors' notice, so he had actually appeared to be rather well behaved that year, if not rather anti-social for a good portion of it.

Despite the fact that he clearly seemed well behaved and studious to McGonagall, Harry was surprised that Dumbledore would approve of him having been made prefect since it gave Harry freedoms and extra responsibilities that Harry wouldn't expect Dumbledore to want him to have.

"Prefect?" Tom echoed with only mild surprise. "Well that's interesting. It may make things both easier and more complicated for you."

"How so?" Harry asked, setting the letter down for a moment.

"Easier, in that your nightly rounds will often have you in the halls beyond curfew, making it easier for you to sneak out. Complicated, in that you will have added responsibilities to attend to outside of your normal studies. Do you intend to resume your place on the Quidditch team?"

Harry groaned and sat back in his chair with a frustrated huff. "I don't honestly want to, really... but it would look seriously suspicious if I dropped it."

"True," Tom said, nodding his head.

Harry picked the letter back up and continued on reading. "It says here that I have to come into the school on August 20th to take placement exams with Professors Babbling and Vector for my Ancient Runes and Arithmancy classes. Depending on how I place, I will either be placed into the first section with the third years, or in the second section with the forth years."

"Hmm..." Tom hummed, frowning lightly. "I was expecting as much, but obviously this could pose a problem."

Harry nodded. "Yes. Once I'm there, Dumbledore will try his hardest to keep me somewhere he deems 'safe'. He won't easily let me come back here." Harry looked back down at the page and twisted up his face as he read on. "It also says that no matter which sections I get into – first or second – that the classes will conflict with a few of my normal fifth year classes. McGonagall says that unless I can get approved for a time-turner with the Ministry, I won't be able to take the classes at all."

"I doubt that will be difficult. Even without having Fudge securely lodged in your back pocket, either Lucius or Rookwood could easily guarantee you approval for a student-issue time-turner."

"True, but it would still be better if Lucius wasn't connected to my approval in anyway," Harry said, dismissively, as he flipped to the second page and began to read his book list. "Rookwood isn't suspected as a Death Eater, but there is no reason for him to lend any aid to Harry Potter since I shouldn't have any way of knowing any Unspeakables."

"Of course," Tom said obviously. "I'll send Mixey to the Ministry to collect the application papers for a student time-turner this afternoon. Once they're submitted, all we have to do is draw the attention of the correct individuals and I imagine approval will be quick in coming."

Harry nodded his head distractedly while taking a bite of toast and flipping to the last page with his school supply list. It was basically the same as usual. The list of potions ingredients was far more extensive this year, but it _was_ his OWLs year, so he would expect nothing less. "I'll write a letter back to McGonagall telling her I'm filling out the application and expect approval. I think I may ask her if it would be possible to do the placement tests at a more neutral location. Do you think it would look bad if I tried to make any demands about being promised that I would be allowed to leave afterwards?"

"Hmm..." Tom hummed in thought. "It may not be wise to show an excessive amount of distrust in Dumbledore to McGonagall. I am quite sure that her loyalty to the man is absolute. Perhaps something a little more subtle will be in order. We'll have to handle it delicately. I was thinking though..." Tom trailed off and Harry felt some hesitancy over the link, which was a rare emotion for him to sense from the Dark Lord.

"You were thinking...?" Harry asked.

"While I am most certainly unwilling to give up a solid two weeks, I was thinking that perhaps it wouldn't be a bad idea if you agreed to stay at the Order's headquarters for the last few days of your holidays."

Harry blinked, then scowled down at the table in front of him, and then gave a resigned sigh. "You're right. It's an incredible opportunity, and it would be stupid to pass it up. The chance to fully explore the Order's headquarters, as well as the potential for spying on them..." Harry trailed off and sighed again.

"Exactly," Tom said curtly. "Perhaps it could be a bargaining chip. You promise Dumbledore that you _will_ stay at this 'secret location' of his, but that you want to return to your 'friend's' house for a few days first. Then write and agree on the time for him to meet you somewhere neutral – perhaps the Leaky Cauldron – and then allow him to take you to the Order's Headquarters."

Harry was nodding thoughtfully. "Alright. It sounds like a decent enough plan. I just have to make sure I don't have too much trouble getting away from the man after my placement exams. I'll write McGonagall back agreeing to come and take them. I think I'll still ask for somewhere more neutral though. I can always use the excuse that coming all the way to Hogwarts may prove a bit too difficult."

"Where ever you have to go for the test, I can accompany you," Tom added as he picked up his tea and took a sip. Harry blinked at him, clearly a bit surprised and confused by this. "You aren't old enough to legally apparate yet," Tom continued on in explanation, "and the only legal portkeys are distributed by the Ministry and can be traced. Obviously you wouldn't be using a _legal_ portkey. Therefore you would need someone who could side-along apparate you. That would be _me_. As _Nick, _of course."

"But what if Dumbledore is there? What if he realizes who you are?"

"He didn't realize who _you_ were when we had the misfortune of running into him in Little Hangleton. I'm quite confident in the power my glamor rings. You already know that they disguise magical signatures as well as physical appearances."

Harry blew out a slow breath before shrugging and giving Tom a hesitant grin. "Alright. We'll give it a shot. I'd rather have you there with me anyway." He admitted with a sheepish grin. Tom smirked back, reached over and threaded his fingers in Harry's silken raven locks, pulling Harry in closer and pressing their lips together.

He pulled back slowly and the two shared a moment, staring into each other eyes before they refocused on their breakfasts.

– –

Later that day Barty and Thor were scheduled to arrive in the manor to continue making additional plans for Thor's Defense class curriculum, and Harry and Tom were going to be part of it to add in their own opinions on what overall goals they wanted to accomplish with his infiltration of the school. This meeting was also to be important in that it was when Thor was going to learn the truth about Harry's identity.

Barty arrived first, followed almost instantly by Thor. The pair made their way through the halls towards the conference room on the first floor where Voldemort and Harry (currently glamored as Evan) were already waiting for them.

Upon entering the room, Barty and Thor each bowed to the Dark Lord and waited until they were instructed to sit, before they each took seats at the table, opposite 'Evan' and Voldemort.

Voldemort only let a moment of silence pass before he spoke. "Today, Thorfinn, you will be learning an extremely sensitive piece of information. What will be revealed to you today must _not_ go beyond this room, under any circumstances. Aside from yourself, Barty is the _only_ other of my Death Eaters who is fully privy to this information. Severus is partially aware of it, but he is not aware entirely of what you are about to learn."

Thor's face was kept stoic but Harry could see the man's jaw clench slightly and for the briefest of moments his eyes darted to the side to look towards Barty, and then 'Evan', before instantly turning back to focus on the Dark Lord. "I will not disappoint you, my Lord," Thor said with the utmost sincerity.

"Last year, before my full resurrection when I was still in a rather vulnerable state, I was approached by the most unexpected of individuals. This individual had become aware of my current status and my eminent return, and, surprisingly enough, offered his assistance and loyalty to _me_. If it were not for this person's efforts, my return would not have been as complete or smooth as it was." Voldemort paused for a moment before continuing. "This individual was Harry Potter."

Thor's face only betrayed the smallest hint of his extreme shock at this statement. Considering how the man usually managed to maintain a completely stoic facade, the reaction he gave was significant. "Harry Potter, my lord?" Thor asked as if he weren't sure he had truly heard correctly.

"Yes, _Potter_. The one and only _Boy-Who-Lived._ It was with his blood that my body was restored. It was with his magical assistance that I was able to regain my full power and my preferred form. Despite popular misconception, Harry Potter has become a very powerful, intelligent, and very _Dark_ Wizard. His affinity is as Dark as is possible in one so young. As Dark as my own was at his age. The boy has sworn his total loyalty to me and he has my complete _trust_."

At that final statement, Thor's facade completely broke and he openly gaped. The Dark Lord did not _trust_ anyone.

"He has proven himself to me time and again and he has my full confidences," Voldemort continued, ignoring Thor's reaction. "I have been personally training him and he and I have been formulating plans for what tasks he shall attempt to accomplish during the school year. During the latter half of the previous school year, Barty was Potter's primary contact within the school. In fact, Barty was the first person that Harry approached in his efforts to seek me out. Now that you will be teaching at the school, you will be expected to work with Potter, in secret of course, in achieving his tasks. He will help you with yours as well, obviously. As you know, Severus Snape, the Potions Master, is one of my Death Eaters. Dumbledore is under the impression that Snape is a spy working for him. It would be best if you and Severus had minimal contact in the school since it would be best if you were not outwardly identified as one of my followers. Therefore, your primary contact within the school will in fact be, Harry Potter."

By this point Thor had managed to get his expression mostly under control, but his eyes were still a bit wide with shock. He nodded his head, slightly distractedly as he spoke, "Yes, my Lord."

"There is still one more thing," Voldemort began in a light voice, calling Thor's full attention back to him. "Have you been reading the Prophet this summer?"

"To some extent," Thor said, nodding hesitantly.

"But you've seen the articles about Potter? That he turned up _missing_?"

"Yes," Thor confirmed with a curt nod.

"In his interview with the Prophet he told the reporter that he was staying with a friend. The truth is that he has been staying _here._"

Again, Thor's eyes betrayed his surprise while the rest of him remained stoic.

Voldemort smirked slightly before turning to the young wizard sitting beside him. "_Evan_, if you would?" Voldemort said lightly.

Harry bowed his head slightly before smirking across the table at Thor and making a show of raising his hands, reaching his right hand to his left and slowly sliding off the ring on his left index finger. The moment it completely left him, his appearance began to shimmer and melt away.

Where once there had sat an early 20-something man with long dirty-blond hair and blue eyes, there now sat a rather mature looking 15-year old with medium length raven-colored hair that had been slicked back at the top, easily displaying the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead, and the ends reaching down to the base of his neck in the back. His face featured his oh-so-memorable, bright killing curse-green eyes framed in thin, circular, black-wire spectacles, and a rather devilish smirk.

"Hey, Thor," Harry said playfully. "Surprise!"

"Y-you're... _Harry bloody Potter!_" Thor gasped, all attempts at maintaining his stoic mask, once again, completely lost. Harry just grinned wider. Thor's head darted over to Barty, who was also clearly amused, and not the least bit surprised by all this. "You knew?"

"Of course," Barty said with an unapologetic shrug.

Thor looked back at Harry, still gaping, and Harry could see the cogs suddenly turning behind his eyes. "The duel! That was _you!_ And... good Merlin! You said you'd been training under the Dark Lord for four months and self taught before that. But you're only... what, fifteen?"

Harry snickered and shrugged. "Just turned fifteen last week, actually."

Thor gaped, utterly dumbfounded.

"He did win the Tri-Wizard Tournament at fourteen," Barty added in, also openly smirking at this point.

Thor's gaze darted between the other three people in the room for a moment before he sat back into his chair and just looked stunned for a long, silent, moment. He finally composed himself and shook the shock from his shoulders. He gave a determined nod and refocused on the Dark Lord and Harry.

"What do you need of me?"

– –

AN: Some Review Replies -

**Jane:**_ How much of this story do you have written?_

- I've got over 260 pages written right now, but Part 1 is 206 pages long, and Part 1 is what I'm going to be posting in this batch. Once I get Part 1 up, I'll go back to focusing on actually writing Part 2, and once Part 2 is done, I'll post it. The story is going to be at least 3 parts long though.

**Lady Sayu:** _Hey can they use the portrait of Mrs. Black and Kreature in order to spy on the Order?_

- Kreacher, probably. But I don't imagine Walburga Black's insane portrait as being able to keep a secret. She seems a bit too mad and inclined to scream things, so I don't feel all that inclined to let her in on any sensitive information. I was tempted to have some sort of interaction between her and Harry, but ended up opting not to.

**To Galate:** Every one of your questions about the story would require me to give away plot events! lol...

For the safe questions - Yes, I have children. A 4 year old daughter who has just started pre-school, and a 14mo old boy. Bedtime is usually insanely hectic in my house, actually...

_Original Fiction?_ - Long long looong ago (as in, back in Highschool - holy crap, I'm getting old) I wrote my own original stories, but stopped writing for many years during college and starting my career and didn't start writing again until about a year ago, and it's all been fanfiction. If I ever get an idea for an original story that I give a crap enough about, maybe I'll take a shot at it, but I've got no plans at the moment.

Unsafe questions: _ Will Umbridge appear? _Can't tell. _ Will Hermione, Ginny, Twins, etc. join._ Can't tell. _Will Tom & Harry Discover Dumbledore horcrux hunt? Can't tell. _ ;P Seeing a pattern? lol

_Don't see Nagini anymore! -_ True true. We never see Hedwig either, do we? I tried to sqeeze in more scenes that made mention of them, just like I wished I could have put in more stuff with Harry's 'Companion', since he feels so niglected, but in the end I already ended up spending more than two hundred pages on the summer months alone, so I really couldn't afford much more filler that wasn't essential to the plot. Just assume that whenever Harry is chilling around the manor, revising his runes and stuff, he's hanging out with Nagini and Hedwig.

_Will you make Snape's point of view toward Harry change at some time in your story? -_ Yes, but it's going to be a gradual shifting. Snape is a bit too hard-headed to suddenly start liking Harry overnight. There will be more interacting with Snape in Part 1.

_Will there be some sort of DA?_ - Yes. But you will get no more details from me on that. ;)

Thanks for the review. If you sign in next time, I can send an actual reply directly to you, and if you honestly want spoilers, I can actually answer your questions.

**Latil:**_ I was wondering if they are not rescuing the few ones who are in Azkaban. I know they're rather busy, but you didn't mention anything._

- Tom's waiting a bit longer for several reasons. One, he wants his Death Eaters up to spec for the battle. And two, an event like that will draw quite a bit of attention, and there always remains the risk that it could be attributed to him, although the Ministry will likely try to pretend it doesn't. The Azkaban break-out is planned for a bit later. It won't be in the first Part of the story, so you'll have a bit of a wait.

**kamiaka yukiko:** _I am wondering though when you plan to bring draco into the mix?_

_- Several people asked this, and it's coming very soon._

**Seduce:** _Would Snape tell Albus about seeing Voldemort with a black and white krait? Or will he just dissmiss it?_

- It hasn't been explicitly said in the story, but just assume that among the things Snape has been told to not divulge to Dumbledore, description of Voldemort's snake is one of them.


	11. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary: Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta Pass by tannne

AN: Okay, going to drop a nasty bombshell on you all. **Next chapter is the end of Part 1**, so after that, **you're in for a wait.**

A few replies first, and the rest of the review replies will be after the chapter.

**arya19:** _Just a question: how many chapters are there in Part 1? That way, we can mourn the necessary stop in the story in advance._

Next chapter is the last chapter in Part 1. I already have about 40 pages written into Part 2, but I'm not posting until I've got about 200, so you guys will have to wait a while before I start posting it.

**Gabriel Dragonheart:** _Severus doesn't really realize that Harry is Evan right now or does he?_

- No, Snape has never been informed that Evan is Harry.

– –

Chapter 10

Nearly another week passed. Barty, Thor and Harry had met on several occasions to plan things for the coming school year, and even though Thor was now aware of Harry's true identity, Harry still wore his glamor ring all the time since there was still the ever-present risk that other Death Eaters could come to the manor. There had been a few meetings for other Death Eater matters, but not many. One noteworthy and slightly amusing meeting _had_ occurred during that time. Snape had come in to give his normal report on Order activity. Harry had been there in his sea krait form, as was usual for Voldemort's 'private' meetings with Snape.

During the meeting, Snape had informed Voldemort that Dumbledore had requested that he discover as much information as he can manage about Evan Harris. Snape had then appeared oddly uncomfortable and hesitated. What followed was an extremely awkward few minutes where Snape had quickly sped through a description of a meeting he had with Dumbledore where the old man had told Snape about Dumbledore stumbling upon the Dark Lord _kissing_ Evan Harris.

Voldemort had kept a straight face through all of this, which, honestly, was amazing, because Harry had been hissing snickers the entire time.

It was obvious that Severus was incredibly uncomfortable during the whole admission and he had kept his head low and his eyes diverted from Voldemort's, and had actually shifted nervously, which was incredibly out of character for the normally stoic, unreadable, man.

Voldemort had not confirmed nor denied anything, and Harry got the impression that Snape was unnerved by that fact. The man seemed to be hoping that Voldemort would deny or scoff at the ridiculous idea, and he had done no such thing.

Voldemort had then covered what information he could gradually come to 'learn' about Harris and provide to Dumbledore. None of it was actually true and it was obvious that most of it was simply to serve the purpose of misleading Dumbledore in his quest for more information.

Snape had been dismissed and as soon as he'd left the manor, Harry had returned to his human form and burst out in a fit of giggles that had Voldemort rolling his eyes at him. At the following advanced training session, Snape had watched 'Evan' like a hawk. His black eyes constantly observing and scrutinizing everything he did. Just for shits and giggles, Harry had made a point of sending a few salacious looks at Voldemort, and had even touched him on the arm once when no one but Snape was looking.

Snape's eyes had gotten large and he had paled considerably. Voldemort had scowled at Harry and told him over their mental link to stop teasing his follower. Harry had snickered quietly, earning him a playful glare.

During that week, Harry and Tom had continued their daily routine of a morning exercise, shower with a high likelihood of sex either during, or immediately following; breakfast, relaxing, planning, Arithmancy or Runes revision, and of course the training sessions in the evenings with the other Death Eaters. They'd left the manor a few times, but nothing major. Harry hadn't yet found the time to go back to Diagon Alley to visit Gringotts or purchase his school supplies for the coming school year and they were planning to finally do that in the next few days.

In general, things at the manor had become relatively predictable and comfortable. Harry's meetings with Thor and Barty were both productive and enjoyable. He had found he got along really well with Barty ever since Tom's resurrection ritual, and he'd had a good working relationship with Thor since the start of the training sessions. Now he found he really truly liked both of them, and they had a good working relationship. Thor had a strong, stony facade, but beneath it, he had an entertaining, dry, sense of humor. He was also incredibly smart and a good organizer. Harry couldn't help but look forward to his DADA class this coming year and was sure Thor would make a brilliant teacher. Barty had been great, but he had been forced into a role by his task of impersonating Moody. Thor didn't have that restriction.

Harry was enjoying his summer immensely now, and the more time that passed, the more he began to dread the end of August, despite the fact he was sure that, at least, his DADA class would be good this year. It was the first time in his life he could recall _not_ wanting to go back to Hogwarts in the fall.

But despite everything, Harry knew he needed to go back. As much as Tom was able to teach him, Harry knew he still needed to complete some of his education at Hogwarts. And of course, there were their plans to consider. It was Harry's job to work on taking Hogwarts from within. To divide the students and weaken the Light's support within the school. He would have to play a more active role in the school's social politics this year; working to gain allies and followers, where in the past, he had just gained 'friends'.

It was now August 12th and this particular day was important because of another noteworthy meeting. This meeting was, once again, related to Harry's plans and tasks during his coming year at Hogwarts. Thorfinn was now entirely on board, and Krum was already beginning to subtly work on Hermione some more in his letters. Now was the time for Harry to meet with another person who would act as a secret contact within the school.

Today, Draco was visiting the manor.

During the last advanced training session, Voldemort had instructed Lucius to stay behind afterwards. It was at that point that the Dark Lord finally informed the man when he was to bring his son in to discuss the Dark Lord's plans for Hogwarts and Potter during the coming school year.

With the crack of apparition, Lucius Malfoy appeared in the manor entry hall with a hand placed firmly on his son's shoulder. Draco Malfoy arrived with a practiced grace and stood there with as calm an outward appearance as he could muster, but anyone looking close enough would be able to tell that the young Malfoy heir was visibly nervous. This would be the first time he'd be personally meeting the Dark Lord. Draco had been the one to first come across his father the day he returned from a meeting here at this very manor, early on in the summer, when the Dark Lord had finally expressed his displeasure with Lucius's failure to properly care for the diary.

Draco had been stunned at the state his father had been in that day. He had recognized the tremors that had wrought his father's body as after effects of the _Cruciatus_ curse, but he had never seen them as bad as they were that day. He had to admit that he had only witnessed a mild version of the unforgivable torture curse during his training in the Dark Arts. What his father had experienced had been the crucio of the Dark Lord. An _angry_ Dark Lord.

And now that he was setting foot in the Dark sect's headquarters, scheduled to attend a meeting with the Dark Lord himself, Draco was beyond intimidated. The thought that the meeting was supposed to dictate how he would handle Potter in the coming year was also rather unsettling. He still didn't know what to make of Potter's switch in allegiances or what that was going to mean for the coming school year.

Draco felt his father's grip tighten for a moment on his shoulder, drawing the younger wizard's attention to him.

"Come along Draco," the elder Malfoy said as he began to lead his son out of the entry hall and down a long corridor lined with nondescript doors. He came to stop at one of the many doors, opened it, and motioned his son inside. Draco took a step inside feeling his heart pounding in his chest with tension, and yet still managed to feel rather disappointed when he realized that the room was empty.

It looked like a sitting room of some sort. Several stuffed armchairs and a couple couches filled the space, interspersed with end tables, coffee tables, and the walls featured several bookcases. It was decorated in dark woods, browns, and burgundies. Draco turned to look at his father expectantly.

"You are to wait here until he is ready for you." Lucius said.

Draco nodded his head in acceptance and watched as his father turned and left, closing the door behind him. Draco waited for a split second before heaving out an impatient huff and turning back to the room. He walked over to one of the bookcases and began to aimlessly read the titles. Nothing actually looked worth his attention. He suspected that the Dark Lord probably kept all of his worthwhile books somewhere else.

Another frustrated huff escaped him and he made his way over to one of the couches and sat down. He was probably sitting there for a whole minute before he sensed movement in the room. He sat up more stiffly and quickly swept his eyes around the dimly lit, windowless room, trying to search out whatever it was he'd sensed.

He had just about given it up as his imagination when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Striking white and black stripes contrasted drastically against the dark burgundy carpet, drawing Draco's eyes directly to the large, thick, serpent, now slithering its way out from underneath one of the sofas. Draco felt his whole body tense with fear but he kept it as concealed as he could manage.

He followed the slithering body and noticed that the tail of it was slowly emerging from a hinged vent in the wall near the floor. The tail finally slipped from the wall, completely, and the vent lid slipped shut with a small _tang_ sound that still managed to echo loudly through the silent room.

Draco was sitting tensely on the edge of the sofa, ready to jump to his feet and bolt the second it looked like the snake was a legitimate threat. Despite the fact that snakes were the symbol of his house, he had to admit that he really had no idea, which kinds of snakes were poisonous and which ones were not. He also had no idea what kind of snake this even was, but if it belonged to the Dark Lord, chances were high that it was deadly.

The snake slithered out into the center of the room and actually raised its head a foot up off the floor and looked straight at Draco. It made a hissing noise that – if Draco didn't know it was absolutely absurd – he would swear sounded like the snake was laughing. Draco suddenly felt a shifting in the magic of the room and watched in shock as the large black and white striped snake began to grow, shift, and transform, right before his eyes. Where once there sat an 8-foot long serpent, now resided a kneeling man with messy black hair. The head of black locks tilted up and a pair of familiar, mischievous, emerald eyes looked up at him from behind round black-rimmed glasses.

Draco gasped and took a step back, as the figure before him rose to his feet with a grace he'd never seen on the other before. Draco stared at him, partially convinced he was imagining things. Because, honestly? This was simply not possible. Sure, he knew that, _somehow_, Harry Potter had switched to the Dark Lord's side, but the thought that Harry Potter could ever actually be _in_ the Dark Lord's headquarters was just unbelievable. And, if that simple thing wasn't enough for him to question his sanity, this Harry Potter had been a snake. A snake that transformed into Harry Potter.

"P-potter?" Draco gasped, in disbelief.

"Hello Draco," Harry said with a smirk as he took a few steps closer, causing Draco to take another step back, knocking his legs against the sofa behind him and stumbling into the seat. Harry chuckled lightly and came to sit in a wing-backed armchair that rested diagonally from the sofa. He sat back in it with a relaxed posture and brought one leg up to cross over his leg at the ankle.

"Wha... what the bloody hell are _you_ doing here?" Draco exclaimed, still staring at Harry with wide, disbelieving eyes. "And what the hell was that?"

"What was what?" Harry asked with a completely innocent and confused expression. Despite all that, there was still a hint of mischief in his eyes that Draco managed to notice, causing the blond Malfoy heir to narrow his eyes in irritation.

"What was _what?_ That – that _snake!_ You were a bloody snake!"

"Oh, _that_." Harry said, rolling his eyes. "That's nothing."

"It bloody hell is not _nothing!_"

Harry's facade broke and he began to chuckle again. "It's called a serpentine transformation. Think of it as something like an animagus transformation, but it doesn't take nearly as long to master, there are multiple forms – although they're all various types of snakes or snake hybrids."

"I've never heard of it before," Draco said, skeptically. "And I _would_ have heard of something like _that."_

"Ah, but you see, only parselmages can learn the skill."

"Parselmage?"

"Yup."

"And _you're_ a parselmage?"

"Yup."

Draco scowled at Harry. "And why exactly are _you_ a bloody parselmage? I mean... what does that even mean?"

"You know how I can speak and understand parseltongue?"

"Yeah," Draco replied hesitantly.

"That's a part of it."

"That doesn't answer my question at all! I never understood why the hell _you_ were a parselmouth, anyway! It doesn't make sense! Only descendants of the Slytherin line are supposed to be able to do that, and no _Potters_ have any ties to Slytherin blood!"

"Oh, I _am _a descendant of Slytherin. Just not on the Potter side," Harry said dismissively.

Draco just gaped at him in disbelief. "That's absurd! If it's not the Potters then how the hell would you be related to Slytherin?"

"My mum."

"Your mum? You _mum_ was filthy mudblood. How the hell could you be descended from Slytherin on your _mum_'s side?"

Harry narrowed his eyes for a moment before shifting back to bland amusement. "Ah, but you see, that _filthy mudblood_ was the great-great-granddaughter of a squib who was disowned from the last of Slytherin's descendants." Harry replied matter-of-factually.

"What?" Draco gasped.

"Yeah, crazy, huh?" Harry said with a smirk. "We only really discovered it this summer. It really only took minimal digging to confirm it, once we first started to suspect it. My great-great-great-grandmother... I may either be adding, or missing a great there – I don't exactly remember – is the Dark Lord's great-aunt. So in a way, he and I are cousins. Funny world, yeah?"

"Are you joking?" Draco asked with an utterly dumbfounded expression on his face.

"I'm really not," Harry said, completely serious, despite his grin.

"The Dark Lord is your _cousin?_"

"_Distant_ cousin." Harry pointed out. "You know, technically you and I are cousins too since we share a common ancestor in Cygnus Black. He's your great-great-grandfather from your mum's side. His son Pollux Black was your great-grandfather, while his daughter Dorea Black is my great-grandmother. She married Charlus Potter. Did you know that? I only just discovered it this summer while doing all the genealogy research. I have to admit, I was rather stunned to learn I was blood related to you lot."

Draco blinked as his eyes slowly widened.

Harry's grin grew wider. "You didn't know, did you?"

Draco's mouth parted slightly, but nothing came out as his face twisted into a grimace, causing Harry to chuckle and Draco's expression to shift into a scowl.

For a long moment after that, Draco just stared at him, apparently lost for words. Finally, Draco seemed to recover enough of his senses to realize he had completely lost control of his reactions in front of an unknown quantity. He schooled his expression and sat up straighter. "Why are you here?" he asked.

"I've been living here."

Draco blinked. "What? Living here?"

"Yes. In the manor. This is where I've been living this summer."

"Wha... why?"

"Because my muggle relatives are pure filth and I can just about guarantee that if I had returned to their house this summer, I would have killed them."

"Oh... well, that's probably a good reason for you to not go _there_, but why the hell would you come to stay _here?_"

Harry shrugged. "The Dark Lord offered."

"The Dark Lord offered to let you stay at his headquarters," Draco echoed incredulously.

Harry grinned. "Yup."

Draco closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he took in a few slow breaths. Harry was clearly amused by all of this, and it was only making the whole thing that much more frustrating and bizarre.

"Alright... so why are you here, _right now?_ I mean... as, in this room?"

"Well, the Dark Lord and your father are currently discussing Ministry things, but once Severus and Thor get here, me and you will be joining them in a meeting to discuss our plans for the coming school year. Although I don't think that Lucius will be joining us for that meeting... not sure what he's going to do during it. Maybe he'll leave and come back to get you later... Anyway, _until then_, I really had nothing better to do and I felt like dropping in and saying hello."

Draco continued to look at Harry as if he were absolutely insane, and Harry could see a battle going on behind the young Malfoy's eyes as to which of his thousands of questions to ask first.

"So, you're going to be in on this meeting?"

Harry raised a single, incredulous eyebrow. "The meeting is about how you're going to be helping Thor and me in our efforts at Hogwarts. _Of course_ I'd be there."

"Who's Thor?"

"Thorfinn Rowle. He's going to be our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this year at Hogwarts. He also happens to be a Death Eater," Harry said as a smug grin plastered its way across his face.

"Really?" Draco asked, perking up slightly.

"Yes. He's pretty brilliant, really. He's been working as a private tutor for about a decade, and he's professionally competed in the Dueling Championship League in the past. Won several years, even."

Draco's eyes widened before his brow furrowed slightly. "Rowle... actually, I'm pretty sure I've heard of him. I think he used to tutor Daphne Greengrass and her younger sister during the summers."

Harry shrugged. "I wouldn't doubt it. Anyway, over the summer I managed to get the Minister firmly lodged in my back pocket and I talked him into passing a law that allows the Ministry to appoint a professor if Hogwarts' Headmaster is unable to fill the post. _Then_ I mentioned that I had _just_ the perfect candidate for the job and _bam!_ Rowle gets offered the job. The whole thing worked out amazingly well."

"Wait, _you've_ got the Minister in your back pocket? Don't be absurd!" Draco exclaimed with a scoff.

Harry just smirked back. "I've been surprisingly busy this summer, _Draco_. And my efforts have been extremely successful. Not only that, but with a single interview with the Prophet, I've managed to get a huge chunk of the wizarding public, and a number of very powerful political figures willing to back me on some severely controversial legislation that, if handled delicately enough, could lead down the oh-so-slippery slope of removing magical muggleborns from their muggle parents at a young age and placing them in magical homes where they'll get a proper education and upbringing. But of course, all the public sees is a move to protect helpless muggleborns and magical orphans from abusive muggles who fear and hate magic. So it's pity, and it's guilt, and it's _helping the children_, and really now, who doesn't want to protect orphans from abuse?" Harry leaned back, raised his hands up and threaded his fingers behind his head, taking on a very relaxed and accomplished, smug, look.

Draco just gaped at him.

"When the bloody hell did you become such a Slytherin?"

Harry laughed and shrugged. "I think I've always had the potential, but it really came out in full force a little under a year ago."

Draco shook his head in exasperation before going quiet. He looked thoughtful for a moment and his brow furrowed slightly. "Was... was any of that stuff true?"

"What stuff?"

"The stuff in the Prophet about how they treated you. Those muggles?"

"Oh _that_ stuff. Well, yes and no. I exaggerated a bit here and there for the sympathy vote. My uncle only whipped me with his belt like... twice, I guess. It wasn't really a regular thing, and he only did it these two times when I performed accidental magic in front of my cousin, because they were afraid I'd contaminate him with my freakishness or something." Harry rolled his eyes and sneered.

"They _whipped you?"_ Draco exclaimed with stunned horror written across his face. He paused and grimaced. "Did they really make you do all their house work?"

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes. "My muggle _family,"_ he sneered the word 'family', "treated me just as bad, if not worse, than your father treats your house elves."

Draco blanched in horror, which actually made Harry want to laugh, but he refrained.

There was a brief knock on the door and both Harry and Draco turned their attention to it, just as it opened and Lucius stepped through.

"Draco, the Dark Lord is rea–" the words died off and the elder Malfoy's eyes went slightly wide as they locked onto Harry, sitting there. "Potter..." Lucius said with a barely contained sneer as he took in Harry's relaxed position on the couch. "I was unaware that you were here."

"I've actually been here _all summer long_. Amazingly enough, no one actually noticed. I've found it quite amusing."

"_You_ have been _here_ all summer?" Lucius echoed in disbelief. Harry just smirked in return.

"So, I would assume that the Dark Lord is ready for us? I take it that Severus and Thor have arrived then?" Harry said, his voice suddenly shifting to a far more serious, down-to-business tone that seemed to catch Lucius by surprise.

"Yes... they have both arrived. I am to take Draco to the ma–"

"The main conference room, yes," Harry said, cutting him off. "Shall we?" he asked, standing up and looking expectantly at Draco. The Malfoy heir instantly was to his feet as well, letting his nerves show for the briefest of moments before he had them mastered.

Lucius scowled at Harry but turned on the spot and began to make his way down the hall towards the conference room with Harry quickly taking up stride beside him, and Draco trailing directly behind.

When they got into the conference room Harry walked right past Lucius and Draco and around the table to sit beside the Dark Lord, causing both Malfoy's to look at him as if he were either insane or suicidal. No one else in the room seemed to outwardly pay this any significant mind, although Severus did look a bit startled, so neither Malfoy revealed their shock at the sight.

"Ah, this must be the young Draco Malfoy," Voldemort said in a high, soft voice that sent another shiver of fear down Draco's spine. A reminding tap on his back from his father and Draco took a few steps forward and slipped down onto one knee and bowed his head.

"My Lord," Draco said smoothly. "It is an honor to be called into your service."

"I am glad you feel so, young Draco," Voldemort said airily. "You may rise."

Draco stood tall and proud, but kept his gaze averted down to the table, rather than meet those piercing red eyes directly.

"You may take the seat beside Severus. Lucius, you may leave. Severus can make sure that young Draco returns home safely."

Harry watched a moment of apprehension and hesitation flash across the elder Malfoy's flawless mask before he bowed low. "Yes m'Lord," Lucius said before giving one last glance at his son and then departing the room, closing the door behind him.

Draco swallowed the lump in his throat and took a few smooth strides to the empty chair to his godfather's left and sat down.

–

Severus Snape had had several vague ideas in mind as to what this meeting would pertain to, however it was beginning to appear that his assumptions were all wrong.

Severus had only been vaguely familiar with Thorfinn Rowle during the first war, and the only interaction with the man since then were the weekly training sessions, and since Severus most certainly didn't require _instruction_, his direct contact with the man had been limited. From his experience with the training sessions, he could tell that Rowle at least knew what he was doing, and seemed a fair enough instructor. Of course, in the training sessions, he was instructing _adults_. Instructing an entire school of children was a far greater challenge... or at least, one would assume so. Severus would readily acknowledge that the egos of some of his fellow Death Eaters definitely complicated some of the training sessions.

Still, being a _decent_ instructor would still put the man far above most of his predecessors. Severus was loath to admit it, but Lupin had probably been one of the best DADA teachers at Hogwarts in the last decade. Followed by Barty, masquerading as that insane ex-Auror, 'Mad Eye' Moody.

Severus really didn't have any significant worries about how Rowle would do when it came to teaching. He _was_ curious as to how exactly the Dark Lord and Rowle intended to slip instruction in the Dark Arts in with a Defense class, under the watchful gaze of Albus Dumbledore. But that was apparently less of a worry since the Minister himself was the one imposing Rowle on the school. The headmaster could do nothing about it.

But this meeting wasn't really about _Rowle._ No. This meeting was about _Harry Potter._ It was about how Severus, Rowle, and young Draco Malfoy would be playing their roles to secretly assist, and Severus had assumed, to also keep a watchful eye on Potter. But perhaps that wasn't the case, after all.

While he had known that the basic nature of the meeting would deeply involve Potter, he was still stunned to see the boy himself in attendance. Severus had been under the impression – admittedly, from _Dumbledore_ – that Potter was secreted away in some heavily warded villa in France with his _boyfriend. _In all of the meetings and training sessions that he had attended at the manor over the summer, the Dark Lord had hardly even _mentioned_ Potter, so Severus had suspected that the two had had minimal contact. Severus had assumed that the Dark Lord had had some input on Potter's interview with the Prophet since the ideals he was so cunningly introducing were remarkably similar to those of the Dark Lord's, but outside of that, he had thought it safe to assume the two were barely in contact.

Speaking of that interview in the Prophet; that morning had been... _amusing_. Well, amusing to _him_. The Order had been in a frenzy and Dumbledore had been visibly disgruntled – which was rare for the normally jovial old coot.

Of course, the largest part of the interview that the Order members had latched onto was Potter's treatment by the muggles that Dumbledore had left him with. Molly Weasley had practically been _boiling _with rage at Albus_. _Severus found it amazing that not one of them seemed to suspect anything with Potter's suggested political goals. If Dumbledore did, he didn't express it. All of the Potter brat's ideas seemed reasonable given his supposed upbringing and the way he had presented them in the article. Severus hated to admit it, but the approach the boy had taken was impressively devious. He dismissed his appreciation for it by convincing himself the Dark Lord had probably played a much larger role in the whole thing that bloody _Potter_ had.

One thing about the article had caused him to pause though. He had to admit that part of him actually wanted to inquire as to the validity and accuracy of the interview's contents in regards to Potter's upbringing. He remembered Petunia Evans from his youth and the girl had been downright wretched. Her jealousy over Lily's magic and the preferential treatment she got from their parents was clear. Severus could imagine the jealous little girl growing into a very bitter and resentful woman. Could she really have taken it all out on her nephew?

He had always assumed that Potter had grown up just as pampered and spoiled as his bastard father. Having those ideas threatened shook the very foundation of many of his beliefs of the boy and he didn't like it one bit.

Now he was sitting in the Dark Lord's conference room, sitting to one side of a wide table with Rowle to his right and Draco to his left, and oddly enough, _Potter_ was sitting opposite him, _next to the Dark Lord._

The boy's placement at the opposite side of the table was... _odd._ He didn't know what to make of that. In fact, the only other time Severus had seen someone sit on that side of the table with the Dark Lord was when Harris was sitting in on a meeting. The fact that Potter had walked into the room without the slightest hesitation and taken his seat there added another level of curiosity to the situation. Potter had clearly been here before enough times to feel completely comfortable doing it.

"Thor, did you bring those copies of the list?" Potter asked suddenly, drawing Severus' gaze to snap up to Harry and then dart over to Rowle beside him.

"Of course," Rowle replied with a curt nod.

"Good. Give Draco and Severus each a copy. I want their opinions on it."

Severus looked back to Potter and scowled at the brat's use of his first name. He was convinced the only reason Potter did it was to irritate him. Suddenly two pieces of parchment slid across the table in front of him. One kept going, coming to a stop in front of Draco, while the other stopped directly in front of Severus.

"This is the list of names that we intend to invite to a special _club_ that we'll be running at the school." Potter started, getting straight to business. Severus couldn't help but glance over at the Dark Lord, surprised that he was letting _Potter_ take control of the meeting. However, the Dark Lord didn't seem perturbed by this at all and Potter just kept going.

"This was mostly compiled from Barty's suggestions. My exposure to the student population has been fairly limited over the years. Unfortunately, I've allowed myself to be extremely isolated, and those that I did associate with were primarily Light affiliated so I'm not very familiar with those who are already inclined towards the Dark Arts. That's where you two come in. Since Barty was masquerading as Mad-Eye Moody – a notorious Dark Wizard catcher – most students with Dark leanings tended to avoid him. I'm sure that at least some of them managed to effectively avoid his notice. You two would much more likely be aware of exactly _who_ really should be in the 'club', so I want you to add your own selection of names to the list."

Potter paused and Severus and Draco both took some time to read over the list.

"What's the difference between the list of 'intermediates' and 'advanced'?" Draco asked, still looking down at the list. His body tensed the moment after he asked and Severus saw his eyes dart up and glance somewhat fearfully at the Dark Lord, as if he suddenly wondered if he were actually allowed to ask questions.

"Thor, do you want to explain?" Potter said.

Rowle nodded and shifted slightly in his chair so he was angled towards Severus and Draco a bit. "The school, en mass, will be informed that I'm forming two 'extra-curricular' clubs for those interested in recovering from the shoddy and inconsistent Defense curriculum so far. I'll be splitting the groups into two sections. 'Advanced,' and 'Intermediate'. The advanced club will in reality, be a Dark Arts club. Intermediate will be subtly introducing dark spells, and those that show promise and a certain open-mindedness will be transitioned into the 'advanced' group. Of course I'll also be introducing some Dark spells into the standard class curriculum, but it'll be done to a limited extent and only with spells that are not overtly obvious."

"I'll be the official 'assistant' in the intermediate class," Harry said. "I'm hoping that by having the 'Boy-Who-Lived' promote the various subjects we'll be studying, more of the normally Light-inclined students will be a little more open to participating and learning these things."

"I'll also be introducing some magical history studies in my lessons," Thor picked up the conversation. "Thanks to Binns, we have generations of wizards who are completely ignorant to the origins of our magic and the nature of affiliated magic."

"Basically, the idea is to open a few eyes and dissolve some of the bias created by years of British education being overrun with Light magic dogma." Harry finished up.

Severus couldn't help but feel mildly impressed by their goals. He doubted that a single school year would be able to undo decades of damage caused by the biased curriculum, but it was still an admirable goal. And the fact that _Potter_ seemed to a large part of the planning was a bit... Severus didn't know what it was, honestly.

Draco was looking over the list in front of him again when he spoke again. "So the people under the 'intermediate' list are the people who we think _could_ be wooed to the Dark, but aren't currently open to the idea, right?"

"Correct," Potter said with a nod of his head.

"I think I may know a few who could go there. I know of quite a few you missed for the 'advanced' group."

"I figured you would." Potter said offhandedly. "Severus, how about you?"

Severus bristled again at Potter'suse of his first name and sneered mildly as he responded. "There are certainly quite a few you've missed. The upper-year Slytherins are a given, but I can think of quite a few of the older Ravenclaws who I know also follow the Dark ways who are not on this list."

"And for the intermediate group?" Potter continued, "I suspected that we could get a lot of Ravenclaws into the intermediate group with a good chance of moving them into Darker territory as time went on."

"Yes, that would be a reasonable assumption," Snape drawled. "However, the more we introduce those who are not already deeply ingrained in the Dark's ideals, the greater the risk we bring that someone will open their mouth and reveal things to the wrong individuals."

"That should not be a problem," Voldemort drawled, drawing the rooms' attention suddenly back to the fact that he was there, and causing Draco to actually _squeak_. Admittedly, it was very quiet, but Potter seemed endlessly amused by it, and Draco quickly began to scowl angrily at the Gryffindor, while his cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment.

"My Lord?" Severus asked, wondering what safeguards, exactly, the Dark Lord had in mind.

"I am creating a magical contract, disguised as a sign-up sheet that everyone entering the 'Advanced' group will have to sign before they can attend any of the meetings. It will create several layers of protections. The most obvious one will be that anyone who has signed it will be incapable of speaking about anything that goes on during the class in the presence of anyone who is not already in the group. But beyond that, it will even protect their memories and knowledge of the meetings from discovery through Legilimency, and even protect them from the use of truth potions, even Veritaserum."

Severus was impressed. It would take some rather complex magic to ensure a contract like that would actually be effective. But this was the _Dark Lord,_ so it really wasn't surprising. What _was_ surprising was that the Dark Lord would bother to do this himself and not delegate the task to someone else. This was just for a Defense class for schoolchildren. He could imagine that the Dark Lord had far more important matters to deal with in the Ministry or Wizengamot.

Still – Severus wasn't stupid enough to voice his curiosities aloud.

The meeting progressed smoothly from there. Severus and Draco spent some time going over exactly who they believed should be added to the lists, and then the discussion transitioned to discussion on exactly what they could do to assist Potter during the school year. Apparently Potter would be regularly leaving the castle and portkeying to the manor. Should any suspicions ever arise from the rest of the faculty or from any of the students, Severus and Draco, along with Rowle, would be asked to help cover for him.

Severus was instructed to keep a tight watch on the other professors and on Dumbledore especially, for any suspicions they might have of either Harry, Rowle, or the defense 'clubs'. He was also to try and diffuse any suspicions whenever possible.

Rowle would be wearing some sort of glamor ring during the school year that would hide his Dark Mark from view as well as mask its magical signature to keep the wards Dumbledore had added to the castle from identifying him as a Death Eater. Apparently the Dark Lord had supplied Barty Crouch with a similar magical signature block for when he had been in the school the previous year. Should Dumbledore or any of the other teachers ever begin to suspect Rowle's true allegiances, Severus was to inform the Dark Lord and Rowle immediately.

Finally the meeting was concluded and the Dark Lord and Potter left together and quickly disappeared somewhere.

"Did you know Potter was living here?" Draco asked in a hissed whisper as soon as Potter and the Dark Lord were gone from the room. Severus blanched minutely, caught off guard by Draco's question.

"Don't be absurd, Draco. Potter is not _living here."_

Thor chuckled from beside him as the man finished gathering up the papers he had brought with him. Severus glanced over at him through narrowed eyes.

"Actually, the kid's right. Potter _has_ been living here."

"What?" Severus exclaimed, his surprise actually showing for a moment.

"And he can turn into a snake!" Draco exclaimed.

Severus turned his incredulous gaze back on the young Slytherin. "What in Merlin's name does that mean?"

"He said it's like an animagus transformation, but it's not. He called it a serpentine transformation and said that only people who descend from the Slytherin line can do it. He turned into a great bloody snake right in front of me! Or rather, he was already the snake and then he turned back into himself."

"And why exactly would _Potter_ be able to turn into perform this _serpentine transformation_ if it is something that only descendants of the Slytherin line can do?" Severus sneered.

"That's the thing! He said he's the Dark Lord's cousin!" Draco exclaimed.

"That is the absolutely most absurd thing you've ever said to me." Severus said in a flat, disbelieving tone. "Potter was probably just _lying_ to you. Stupid brat was just trying to get a reaction out of you."

"I would think so too, but... but I think he really meant it!" Draco said, looking both stunned and disbelieving of his own words. "He said it's from his mudblood mother's side. That she descended from some squib that got disowned from the Slytherin line. Said his great-great-great grandmother is the Dark Lord's great-aunt, so they're distant cousins! _Cousins!_"

Severus blanched.

_Lily? Lily was a descendant of Salazar Slytherin? Impossible..._

A glance over at Rowle showed that _this_ at least, was also news to him. He may have known about Potter supposedly living in the Dark Lord's manor all summer, but he apparently wasn't aware of Potter's claims at being the man's only living relative.

Suddenly a memory flashed across Severus' mind and he looked back at Draco. "You said he turned into a snake? What did it look like?"

"It was huge. At least eight feet long, and had black and white stripes down its whole body." Draco said.

A big black and white striped snake.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a strained groan. Every meeting he had had with the Dark Lord all summer long, had been in the company of a large black and white striped snake. _Every meeting._ Had that seriously been _Potter? _And if so, what reason did the Dark Lord have in allowing Potter in on their meetings? Why would the Dark Lord trust Potter that much?

Could Potter truly be a descendant of Slytherin? _Lily_ a descendant of Salazar Slytherin?

It gave him a lot to think about. In fact... he wondered if this somehow explained the brat's survival all those years ago. Did the fact that Lily shared the same blood as the Dark Lord play some role in why she was able to effectively protect her son from his master's killing curse?

Severus had believed that it was somehow related to the fact that he had requested that the Dark Lord spare Lily's life. The fact that she actually had the _choice_ – that the Dark Lord truly was willing to allow her to live, but she had still chosen to die for the sake of her child – that, _that_ was why her 'sacrifice' had worked, when no other parent before her had been able to protect their child by dying.

Was her relation to the Dark Lord by blood somehow also responsible for it? Perhaps it was a combination of things. That all of these different factors, alone, would be insufficient, but when combined were somehow enough to block the killing curse.

If it were true, it would relieve a modicum of his guilt concerning the Dark Lord's fall. He had often worried, over the years, if the Dark Lord would place some of the blame for his disembodiment on Severus, since it was his request to spare Lily Evans' life. But the Dark Lord had not yet even mentioned it since his return. Severus wondered if the Dark Lord had even considered it as a possible cause.

Finally the three left the conference room and made their ways back to the entrance hall. Rowle left first, and then Severus side-along apparated Draco back to Malfoy manor before using their floo to return to his private quarters at Hogwarts.

He had a lot to think about.

One thing was for sure. The coming year at Hogwarts was sure to be filled with surprises.

– –

The following day Harry and Tom finally went to Diagon Alley and Gringotts. Harry went as himself, with no disguising glamors at all. However, he did have a powerful notice-me-not charm on him. Tom went as his Nicodemus glamor.

They went to Gringotts first and while there Harry inquired about the property he apparently owned in Ireland. With a goblin escort Harry was taken into the family vault and allowed access to the keystone that would gain him entry to the properties wards and given instructions on how to enter them and then modify them himself. The goblins also provided him with a detailed written summary on the estate that had been included with the account information.

Finally the pair left the bank and made quick work of picking up all of the supplies Harry needed that he didn't already have. They didn't dawdle in the Alley this time, and didn't even bother to visit Knockturn Alley since they had other things to attend to and were somewhat pressed for time.

The pair apparated back to the manor and went up to their bedroom so Harry could deposit his new school supplies and read over the information on how to access the Potter estate. Harry sat on the edge of the bed, skimming through the description of the property while Tom examined the ward keystone.

"It's called Morhda Abbey and it's located in Connemara, in the west of Ireland and its described as 'nestled at the base of Druchruach Mountain on the northern shore of Lough Pollacappul'." Harry read.

"This is interesting. It says here that it was originally built by muggles as an Abbey - it was actually a _nunnery!_" Harry said snickering. "Let's see... apparently the duchess that ended up owning the thing after the nuns left, sold it off when her husband died and left her in a huge debt thanks to a gambling problem. The Potter's purchased it and converted it to be magical estate house. It's apparently even got an old Gothic Church on the property, and also has six acres of Victorian walled gardens, and some greenhouses, although I imagine it's all horribly overgrown.

"The castle itself sounds quite large by the description here. Multiple wings and four stories tall in the two towers. There are 33 bedrooms, 9 bathrooms, 4 sitting rooms, a ballroom, billiard room, library, study, schoolroom, smoking room and various offices built for domestic staff residences like the butler, cook, housekeeper and other servants. It says here that several of them were converted to suit house elves after the Potter's purchased the abbey and converted it over to suit their needs."

"Hm," Tom hummed with mild interest as he looked up from the keystone. "Sounds promising. Shall we be going then?"

Harry stood up and folded the parchment before sticking it into the deep pocket of his over-robe.

"Sure."

The pair went down to the entry hall and activated the port-key feature of the keystone to transport them directly to the property.

They appeared on a dirt road that appeared to be going through a large empty valley at the base of a mountain and a short distance from the edge of a large lake. Directly in front of them was a large roughly carved bolder about five feet tall and three feet wide and deep. On the front was a small intend that Harry knew would fit the keystone.

Tom stood to the side and handed the keystone to Harry. Harry accepted it and, using his wand, made a small slash across his palm. He held the keystone in his hand as the blood pooled around it for a moment. The blood seeped into the keystone and after a brief glow the slash on his palm healed. Next he reached out and held the keystone in the small indent in the large bolder. It glowed for a moment and the surface of the stone was suddenly covered with runes that hadn't been visible before.

Harry could feel the hum of old magical wards coming to life and scanning him, recognizing him as its new master. Where there had been nothing but a large empty valley, he was now faced with an 8-foot tall overgrown hedge, a tall wrought iron gate, and in the distance, a large stone castle. Finally he removed the keystone from the bolder, no longer needing it, and slipped it into the pockets of his robes.

Harry pulled out his wand and tapped the entry stone while speaking the ward spell that would identify another master. Tom stepped up then, slashing open his palm and then placed his hand flat against the stone. The magic of wards scanned him and accepted him as well. With this setting, Tom would have just as much control over the castle's wards as Harry did. Harry had wanted it this way since Tom was the ward master, not him. Tom would be adding to the wards significantly if they decided to use the old abbey as the dark sect's new headquarters.

With the initial ward recognition completed the two opened the gate and began to make their way down the long gravel path past the gatehouse, over a stone bridge that passed over a motte that connected into the loch to the rear of the estate. Harry paused at this point and looked out over the large whitish-gray stone castle before him.

"Wow... I own a bloody castle," Harry said with a bit of awe in his voice as he looked out over the tremendously impressive ancient building.

"It is quite impressive," Tom said also taking in the sight of it.

The pair spent the rest of the day exploring the estate. Most of the inside had been layered with preservative charms so at least nothing was rotting or falling apart too terribly. Mostly things were just incredibly dusty. There was some mild water damage in some areas where there had been some water seepage around windows and in one of the towers where the roof had collapsed in.

The castle already had dungeons that could easily be converted to prisoner cells. It had an extensive wine cellar that Harry suspected Tom would likely convert into a potions lab. The interiors were decorated tastefully, the kitchen and bathrooms were already converted to use a magical plumbing system although it could use some updating.

The views were wonderful from almost any room. You were either looking out over a lush forest, rocky mountains, or the large beautiful loch that was nestled up right to the back side of the castle beyond the gardens.

One interesting thing that caught Harry's notice was the presence of a number of magical portraits, and a Potter Family Tree tapestry, in a large drawing room in the west wing. There were more magical portraits in a few other bedrooms and in a few hallways, but it was the ones in the drawing room that caught Harry's interest the most. The largest one, hanging on the wall directly opposite the tapestry, was Harrison Potter, Charlus Potter's father. While Tom continued to examine a few more rooms on that floor, Harry got caught up in an interesting, and _enlightening_ conversation with his great-grandfather.

Finally, Tom had returned and he and Harry and resumed their exploration of the abbey. By the end of the day, as far as Harry was concerned, it was perfect. Tom agreed and said he would purchase the contracts of a couple new elves and set them to the task of fixing the place up and making it more habitable while he worked on adding to the wards. Morhda Abbey was large enough that once the complete relocation was finished, Mixey, Kibby, and Grader wouldn't be enough to take care of the large estate alone, especially once there were Death Eaters living in the castle. Five elves would probably be suitable though, so the new purchases would be worth it.

They left as the sun was setting and returned to Riddle manor and beginning making some plans for their future headquarters.

– –

#-#-#-#

(For visual reference, I'm using Kylemore Abbey in Ireland as the basis of Morhda Abbey. Google it, or copy this url minus anti-fanfiction edits)

http athey(dot)comyr(dot)com / storage / Kylemore-Abbey. jpg

#-#-#-#

– –

AN: Review Replies –

**Gallatea:** _Luna Lovegood? will she have her part here?_

- Yes. :)

_I found that Snape reveals quite a lot of things to Dumbledore_

- Voldemort has given him permission to relate skewed information for the sake of maintaining his position as spy. Snape is still giving Dumbledore the impression that the Death Eater forces only number around 6-8 - not the 40+ that it actually does. And that

there is one training session going on for the small group of mostly-fat, out-of-practice, old wizards from the last war. It's misinformation to reduce the apparent threat level of the DE's.

_You don't say anything about Tom and Harry's developing bond anymore (and they both seem to be a little less lustful) so does this mean it is complete now?_

- Just about. It's cooled down. I don't go into it, but just assume that they have sex about twice a day - every night, and more often than not, in the morning after their gym time when they shower. But intensity of the bond is reducing, and they're both busy enough that they're behavior is not being quite so controlled by it.

**Astera94:** _are you going to keep Harry's clunky glasses?_

- Hadn't specifically planned on getting rid of them.

**LoVeLeSs77:**___I had a question though, when does Sirius make an appearance n for the love of god, please make him dark!_

- He makes an appearance soon-ish, however, it is not in Part 1. So... it'll be a while for you guys. Sorry.

**LaTil: **_What about the captain of Gryffindor. It's not this year they have a new one or I'm mistaken?_

- I believe that this year was Angelina Johnson's 7th year, and she was the Captain this year... I'm not positive though, so I may have to look it up just to be sure. Harry was made Quidditch Captain in 6th year.

_:Voldie said that when they'll rescue the DE in Azkaban they'll be living in the HQ. I suppose Voldie will order them to no sneak in _his quarters, so they can continue his relationship.

- Yup, but one of the nice things about having a big castle with mutlple wings; you can say 'East Wing is Off Limits' and stick all of the guests in the rooms in the West Wing or something.

_:In my mental show Bella enter when they are shagging._

- Bwahaha - I've got to admit that I've imagined a scene or two of Tom and Harry getting walked in on. Although in my imagining, it's usually been Lucius who came across them. I keep trying to find a good place to squeeze it into the story, but I haven't found it yet.

**To wolfcathope** - As things current stand, I haven't included any of those scenes (What Tom bot in the store, and any kinky sexual exploration) in the story so far. If I do go into it, it'll be in

a separate PWP story that will most likely get posted on AFF.

**To Ms-Trixie **- See the above answer. lol. And as for the glasses, question see my response to Astera's question above. lol. Yes, there would probably be a ritual to fix it, but Harry hasn't really planned to do it yet since he's been kind of busy.

**Bloody Fox:** _Are you planning more of a subtle, swaying-the-people type of take over, or take a battering ram and beat it all to heck one?_

- my plans are still a bit in limbo... ^^;;


	12. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary: Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta Pass tannne

AN: This will mark the end of Part 1. As of posting this chapter, I've got about 40 pages of Part 2 already written, and most of Part 2 is outlined. Go to my author profile and click the link to get to my forum for progress reports. **Once all of Part 2 is done, I'll post it one chapter at a time, the same way I did this one**.

Now, because I am a visual person, I put together a bunch of images that I _personally_ associate with what would work for modern wizarding clothing.

You can find them here:

http : / athey(dot)comyr(dot)com / storage / robes / robes(dot)htm

– –

Chapter 11

As far as Harry was concerned, the last month of his summer holiday was passing far too quickly. It was now August 20th and Harry was scheduled to visit Hogwarts today to meet with Professors Babbling and Vector to take his Arithmancy and Ancient Runes placement exams. He had gotten his approval for a student-issue time-turner already. The time-turner would be delivered directly to Professor McGonagall and Harry would receive it on the first of September, but now that it was officially approved, there was nothing preventing him from switching his electives. All that was left was to be determined was which year he be placed within each of the subjects.

He had asked if there was somewhere other than Hogwarts where he could take the tests, but McGonagall had said that was not possible. She did ask him where he was staying, saying that a contingent of adult wizards could come to escort him to the school to ensure his safety. Harry knew that this question was all Dumbledore and had politely turned down. In his response, he mentioned that his friend would be coming with him to side-along apparate him directly to the gates of Hogwarts. He even asked if it would be possible for his friend to be allowed inside the school so he could wait for him in the castle rather than waiting down in Hogsmeade.

McGonagall had not committed in her response, saying that 'they would see when he got there'. Tom had thought that they would most likely approve of his entry into the castle just so that they could grill him for information while Harry was taking his exams. Harry wasn't really sure how he felt about that. He was definitely concerned about Tom being 'grilled' by McGonagall, and quite likely, Dumbledore himself. It seemed rather risky to Harry, if he was being completely honest, but Tom seemed rather excited by the potential challenge. He seemed utterly convinced that he could completely fool both McGonagall and Dumbledore should he be faced with either of them.

Plus, the prospect of being _allowed into the school_ by the old man was utterly amusing to Tom, not to mention potentially beneficial in any future conflicts. Once he was allowed in, the wards would remember him and he would _always_ be allowed back, unless the permission was specifically revoked by Dumbledore. While it was entirely possible that the old man would do just that once he had left the school, the chance remained that Dumbledore would _not_ and Tom would forever have an open invitation into the school.

Harry had trouble imagining that Dumbledore would remain completely ignorant of Tom's true identity, but the Dark Lord was confident. Harry had still been considerably hesitant about the whole thing but stopped his protests when Tom finally conceded that he was concerned about leaving Harry in 'enemy territory' with no way of personally retrieving him should something go wrong. It was one thing to have Severus and Thorfinn both in the school, but Tom still felt better if he knew that he could go in and get to Harry personally, if the need should arise.

The fact that Tom was _worried_ was enough to halt Harry's protests, completely.

So the morning of August 20th Tom and Harry prepared for their day at Hogwarts. Tom was wearing his glamor ring with his persona as Nicodemus Tomaras. He also cast several additional spells upon himself just for extra safety purposes.

Tom's Nicodemus glamor looked about 17 years old with pale blue eyes, soft features, round cheeks and full lips. His bronze-colored hair was short and slightly wavy, but neatly styled. The robe he was wearing was form-fitting on his upper torso with trim lines, flowing smoothly into the long hanging bottom that went down to his knees. The robe was black with silver trimming, while his crisp slacks were black with silver pinstripping, and his shoes were a smooth polished black.

Harry was, of course, without his ring today. His black hair was left free in all its untamable glory today. Hair that was, once-upon-a-time, a short messy fringe against his forehead, was now chin length and left to frame each side of his face. The rest of his hair now reached the base of his neck and was left in soft black waves. Peaking out just below his ear on his right side, just barely visible amongst the dark hair, was the white ivory with black lacquer front, spade earring.

His wardrobe featured a sleeveless robe with a high neck. It was fastened from his collar down to just below his waist where the robe was then left open. It went down to just below his knees and the pants he wore beneath it were very snug and tucked into calf, high black leather boots. It was a considerably different look that he had ever sported before in the presence of his professors, but he had no intention of dressing in ratty muggle clothing just to fit an out-dated image his professors had of him.

Harry was supposed to show up at Hogwarts at 10am, so once it was ten till, he and Tom went to the entry hall, Tom took hold of Harry's arm and side-along apparated Harry directly to the gates of Hogwarts. Obviously, Harry could have apparated himself, but he wasn't supposed to be able to do that, and the excuse for 'Nick' accompanying him was for the sake of transportation.

Harry grimaced upon landing. He was entirely unfond of side-along apparition, and the nasty queasy feeling it always left him with. He took a few deep breaths and managed to settle his uneasy stomach before looking back at Tom, who was looking at him with visible amusement. Harry rolled his eyes and glared playfully at Tom who only smirked in response.

The pair turned together to face the large gate that marked the official entrance to Hogwarts, and also the edge of the wards. The gates were closed at the moment and Harry walked up to them and looked between the bars, down the road that lead towards the school. In the distance, he could see a figure approaching and quickly realized that it was McGonagall.

Harry turned back and gave one more hesitant look at Tom.

"It will be _fine._" Tom said in an uncharacteristically soft and reassuring tone. Harry smiled at him thankfully and took in a deep breath, centering himself.

"Just a moment, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said as she reached the gate and swished her wand, opening it. She took a step out and her eyes widened as they fell upon Harry. They trailed from his feet all the way up to his hair in the span of a second, taking in his appearance. Whatever she thought of him, she masked away, quickly directing her gaze at Harry's companion.

"Hello Professor," Harry said with a kind smile. "I'd like to introduce you to my friend Nicodemus Tomaras. Nick, this is my Transfiguration Professor, my head of house, and the Deputy Headmistress of the school; Minerva McGonagall."

"Madam, it is an honor to meet you. Harry has spoken quite highly of you," Tom said in a smooth voice as he took her hand and gently brushed his lips on her knuckles. McGonagall's eyes widened slightly in surprise before she gave a small smile. Harry almost could have sworn she even blushed slightly.

"Oh, well... It's a pleasure to meet you as well," she replied, a bit flustered by the unexpected introduction. "So am I to assume you are the friend that Mr. Potter has been spending his summer with?"

"That would be an accurate assumption," Tom replied with a small grin. "I hope it's not a problem that I came along. I provided Harry with the most direct means of transport. My home isn't connected to the floo network, you see."

"Ah yes. He mentioned that you would be side-along apparating him. So you are of age then?"

"Yes, that's correct. I turned seventeen last January."

"You were never a student here and yet you knew where Hogwarts was in order to apparate directly to it?" McGonagall posed her inquiry in a rather indirect way.

"You are correct that I did not attend Hogwarts. I was home schooled by my godmother, you see. However, about a year ago, she passed away and I moved to Hogsmeade. I actually worked part-time in Honeyduke's in the evenings while I studied for my NEWTs on my own. That's how Harry and I met, actually. It's also, why I know the location of the school. It's hard not to notice the large castle on the hill while living just down the road from it for the better part of nine months."

"Ah, that would explain it. My condolences about your godmother. I can only imagine how difficult that must have been for you at such a young age."

"Thank you," Tom said with a small incline of his head.

"Professor?" Harry said, drawing her attention back to him.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"I was wondering if it would be possible for Nick to come into the castle while I take my tests? He could just wait in the library or perhaps the Gryffindor common room. I just didn't want him to have to go all the way down to Hogsmeade to wait for me."

McGonagall looked at the pair of them for a long silent moment, contemplating the request as if this were the first time she had heard it. Harry knew, however, that she had probably already discussed this possibility with the old coot and received instructions on how to proceed. Finally, she looked as if she had reluctantly come to a decision.

"I suppose that will be acceptable. Mr. Tomaras can wait for you in the school library. It's just down the hall from the classroom I have set up for you to take your tests in."

Harry smiled. "That's great. Thank you, Professor."

McGonagall nodded and motioned towards the gate. They took a few steps closer and as Tom was beckoned towards the gate, McGonagall tapped her wand on his head and Harry saw the briefest twitch of annoyance flash behind Tom's eyes at the action. Nevertheless, the annoyance was instantly banished and Tom looked every bit the slightly overwhelmed but curious youth he was pretending to be. Harry felt the shift in the wards as Tom was granted access and a devilish smirk graced his lips for the briefest of seconds before it was gone.

The three then made their way up the path, through the main doors, and into the castle. Harry played 'tour guide', pointing out and explaining certain features of the castle, and Tom pulled off a remarkably convincing act of someone seeing the castle for the first time. 'Oo'ing and 'Awe'ing at all the appropriate moments, and asking questions that one might ask had they no previous exposure to the ancient, magical castle.

They made their way to the library where Tom was left to his own devices for a bit while McGonagall led Harry down the hall to an empty classroom where Professor Vector was already waiting.

Harry was quickly set to his placement test. It was definitely not an _easy_ test. While he felt confident that he had come a long way under Tom's tutelage, his instinctual grasp on his magic gave him no advantage when it came to Arithmancy. It was all about numbers and equations and logic, and magical theory. Many beginner Arithmancy texts focused a lot on simply memorizing established magical formulas, but Tom's approach had focused far more on understanding the _why_ and _how_ that brought those formulas into existence in the first place. He wanted to make sure that Harry would understand the fundamentals enough that he would be able to solve problems even if he had never heard of the established method to find the solution.

Harry was thankful for it because there were definitely a number of questions on the test about things he never covered before that moment, but was still able to muddle his way through.

When he was finally done with the test he felt mildly mentally exhausted. He had felt over the link mostly boredom from Tom. There had been a few instances of peaked interest when Harry assumed the elder wizard had found some book in the library that caught his interest. He wondered if Tom would actually try to slip into the restricted section while he was there.

Harry got a brief break while Professor Vector gathered up her things and promised Harry that she would have the test graded in a day or two at the latest and that she would inform Minerva as to which section Harry could go into. She left the room and one of the castle's house elves popped in offering Harry tea or pumpkin juice. Harry was a bit startled by the little creatures' appearance but gratefully accepted a cup of tea.

Professor Babbling came in a few moments later with her placement exam for Ancient Runes. She actually spent about ten minutes quizzing Harry in person; asking him questions about what methods he had used to learn on his own up until this point, what texts he had used, which of the various rune languages he felt most comfortable with, and then asking him several basic questions. Finally she set him to the task of actually taking the test.

It was about twenty minutes into the test that Harry felt a surge of emotion over the link from Tom and he knew that Dumbledore had finally approached him.

– –

Tom knew that Dumbledore was drawing near even several minutes before the aged wizard actually entered the library. He could feel the shifting of the castle's magic as the Headmaster traveled its halls. The magic probed at Tom subtly, most likely at Dumbledore' request, and any normal wizard would be completely ignorant of it, but Tom was no normal wizard.

He took on a relaxed and bored pose in the chair he was perched in beside one of the many study desks. The book he had in his hands was a charms manual. A recently published one, actually, and one he hadn't read before. It wasn't anything groundbreaking, but there were some mildly interesting spells in it.

His eyes remained trained on the book even as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as the Light Lord silently entered the library. He continued to remain outwardly oblivious up until the man came to stand directly beside him. He glanced up, faking surprise and setting the book down beside him and slowly beginning to stand.

"Oh, no, that's quite all right. No need to stand on my account," Dumbledore said with a genial smile.

Tom blinked innocently at the man and relaxed back into his chair.

"Do you mind if I perhaps join you?" Dumbledore continued on smiling down at him.

Internally Tom was sneering in disgust, but not even the faintest trace of his true emotions made their way onto his face. He simply looked at the man with mild stunned surprise before stuttering out a response.

"Oh, of course. I mean, please do," he said kindly as he reached to the side and pushed out the chair that was beside him at the desk. He pushed his own chair away and angled it so that he would be facing the other man, while Dumbledore pulled his chair out further and sat down.

"Ah, thank you, dear lad. When Minerva told me of your accompanying Mr. Potter I decided to take advantage of this rare opportunity and introduce myself. I am Albus Dumbledore. Headmaster of Hogwarts."

"Uh... yes, I know. I mean, I've heard all about you. Everyone knows you," Tom stuttered out convincingly.

"Ah, you flatter me. But it is actually _you_ that I find myself most curious about right now."

"_Me?_ I don't know why you would find _me_ interesting at all," Tom said with innocent incredulity.

"Oh, I'm sure you're more interesting than you give yourself credit for. You have, after all, managed to catch the interest of young Harry."

_'Harry' is it?_ Tom mentally sneered at Dumbledore's use of familiarity, but outwardly remained impassive.

"Ah... I see," he said, instead.

"Do you?" Dumbledore asked.

"I'm sorry, I've been rude. I haven't yet properly introduced myself."

"Ah, not rude at all. A simple mistake."

"Yes, well, my name is Nicodemus Tomaras," Tom said as he offered his hand.

Dumbledore easily took hold and the pair shook politely before parting again.

"I must confess, Mr. Tomaras, I was already aware of your name."

"You were?" Tom replied in entirely convincing surprise.

"Yes. Well, since Harry's interview with the Daily Prophet where he mentioned you by name, I have made a few inquiries about you."

"Oh? That's a bit surprising. I would have expected as much from the press, but I must admit I never imagined that the headmaster of Harry's school would find any value in digging into my past."

"Ah, well Harry is a rather unique case, and I must admit that I think of him as more than just a student in my school. He has come to mean a great deal to me and I feel compelled to watch after him. There are those out there who would wish harm upon Harry, and I feel it is my responsibility to help keep him safe. I was only being cautious, of course, but it seemed important that I do my best to make sure Harry wasn't putting himself in harm's way by associating with the wrong sort."

Tom felt a twitch in his right eye and had to fight especially hard not to sneer or scowl at the manipulative old bastard before him. As it was, he still found himself frowning at the man.

"Well I hope your fears were assuaged. I pose no harm to Harry, I only wish the best for him."

"You wish for his best?"

"Of course. I care a great deal for him. More so than I've ever cared for anyone else in my entire life."

"I'm very glad to hear that, Mr. Tomaras because I hope we can come to a mutual agreement pertaining to Harry's safety. I understand that you and he feel that he is sufficiently protected in your home, but I truly must insist that he spend the remainder of the summer in a place where I can guarantee his safety from those who would wish him harm. I –"

"I'm sorry, Professor Dumbledore, but I simply cannot abide by this line of conversation without Harry present. First and foremost, neither you nor I have any right to dictate what Harry does with himself during his summer holidays. He is free to choose where he wishes to reside as long as he has the permission of his legal guardians – which he does. And secondly, if anyone should be present to partake in such a discussion topic, it should be Harry himself. He would be very angry if he thought that people were gathering behind closed doors and secretly planning out his future without even asking for his input. If Harry wishes to go to whatever safe location you speak of, then he is free to do so, but it is _his choice_."

Dumbledore blinked in mild surprise before smoothing his expression. "While that may be so, it would seem that Harry values you and your opinion enough that he might be willing to see reason if you were to contribute your thoughts to the matter. I was hoping that you and I could come to an agreement –"

"I highly doubt that you and I will come to an agreement on this matter. I truly believe that Harry should stay where _he_ feels safest and most comfortable. I know that you have written to him numerous times over the course of the summer requesting that he turn himself over to your _protection_ and I also know that he has repeatedly refused said request. Harry has made his opinion on the matter quite clear and the fact that he has remained perfectly safe for the last month and a half does not seem to matter to you at all.

"You continue to insist that his primary motivation for going where ever it is you want to send him is for his 'safety' and yet there is no evidence at the moment that could prove that where you would send him is actually in any way safer than where he has already been staying. You won't even tell him where it is you would like to send him off to, nor have you given any concrete evidence to support that there is any actual threat to his safety right now. The argument that 'some Death Eaters _might_ be out there and _might_ be after you' simply isn't going to cut it here. There are only eleven days left until he will return to Hogwarts, I don't know why you would still continue to pursue this matter."

"I only seek to guarantee Harry's safety."

"And what makes you so sure that he is not safe in my home?"

"I know nothing about your home. If you would be willing to allow me to come pay your home a visit so I could inspect the wards, then perhaps my worries could be assuaged."

"I'm afraid that is out of the question. The fewer people who know of the location to my home, the more safe and secure it is for Harry. I want him to have a place he can return to, knowing that no one can get to him there. He needs that security. My home has become his sanctuary and I intend to keep it that way for him for as long as he wishes to make use of it."

"That is an entirely valid concern, however I am sure that Harry would not be averse to _my_ knowing the location. I am quite capable of keeping a secret."

"He doesn't."

"Excuse me?"

"He doesn't wish for you to know. He and I already discussed this. He does not trust that you will not come in and try to force him to leave."

"He does not trust _me?" _Dumbledore responded with a hurt expression on his face. Tom internally scoffed, but kept his face surprisingly passive.

"You _did_ leave him in the care of his horrible relatives without even once checking up on him to see how they were treating him, and since his reentry into the magical world you have continued to insist he return to them every summer despite being informed of exactly how horribly they treat him. Even this summer after he managed to escape them, you're first letter once again insisted he return to their home. He refuses to go back into an abusive environment where he doesn't feel safe. How can you expect him to trust you on this matter after all that you have done?"

Dumbledore flinched back slightly as if he had just been slapped.

"Let me be frank here, _headmaster,_" Tom began, his voice harder, but still seemingly polite, "with what I have seen, Harry could easily bring both the Dursleys and _you_ up on legal charges for abuse and neglect of a minor. The Dursleys for their treatment of him, and _you_ as criminally negligent for having placed him with them in the first place, never checking up on him, and then repeatedly ignoring Harry after he started attending school at Hogwarts, when he came to you seeking help and informing you of his abusive treatment at their hands. But he refuses to take legal action. He still respects you and wishes to believe the best of your actions and choices, but at this point I think you have a long way to go in regaining his trust."

"I see..." Dumbledore said, looking slightly grave. "I only ever wanted the best for the boy. I honestly never believed that Petunia could possibly treat her own nephew in such a way, I –"

"Did you ever check? Did you ever even visit their home?"

"I corresponded with Petunia via letters. I –"

"People lie, Mr. Dumbledore. It is especially easy to lie in letters. You had a responsibility to Harry and you failed him. If you truly want to regain Harry's trust, I suggest you start with some honesty, which includes not trying to conduct matters that pertain to him, behind his back."

Dumbledore looked at Tom for a long quiet moment before he slowly nodded his head. His eyes had the obvious signs of regret and Tom wondered how much of it was actually for his egregious treatment of Harry, or regret that he had managed to lose some of the blind trust of his favorite pawn.

"Hmm... yes. You're probably right. You clearly care a great deal for Harry. I'm glad he has a friend like you by his side. I will wait and discuss this with Harry once he is done with his exams. Thank you for your time, I'll leave you to your reading."

Tom nodded his head in parting. "Good day to you, Headmaster."

– –

"August 30th." Harry said with a finality in his tone that booked no debate.

"Excuse me?" Dumbledore replied, confused.

"The concern about my safety is about the possibility of someone coming after me – right?" Harry paused but didn't actually wait for a response. "They,_ whoever this 'they' might be,_ can't find me where I am right now, so the only option these supposed people would have is to come after me at a point that they can predict. Namely, when I show up at King's Cross on the morning of September 1st."

Dumbledore blinked, seemingly a bit taken off his guard by Harry's sudden line of discussion, seemingly out of nowhere.

Harry had finished his test with Professor Babbling and then McGonagall had gathered him and 'Nicodemus' and they had been making their way down the hallway towards the main entry hall when Dumbledore had approached them. Harry, it would seem, was not interested in wasting any time and had gotten straight to the point.

"That would seem like the most likely time, yes," Dumbledore conceded. "As for who 'they' might be, Harry, it is Voldemort himself and his Death Eaters."

Harry paused in his rant, surprised that Dumbledore was finally telling him this when he hadn't once mentioned Voldemort's return all summer long.

"Are you suggestion that Voldemort is actually _back? _Or just that you suspect that he _might_ be trying to come back... again."

Dumbledore took on a look, most grave. "I am most saddened to say this Harry, but I'm afraid he is in fact back. How he managed to do it, still alludes even me, but he has returned."

"But there's been nothing in the papers. No attacks. No sudden increase in Death Eater activity or anything. What makes you think he's back?" Harry said, taking on a disbelieving, but also horrified expression.

"I believe he is laying low and rebuilding his strength and his forces. I have personally seen him, Harry. I know it to be true."

Harry widened his eyes and took on a look of stunned disbelief.

"_Seen_ him? When? What... what was he doing? Where'd you see him?"

Dumbledore paused and glanced for a moment at 'Nick'.

Harry frowned. "Whatever you tell me, I'm going to end up telling him anyway, so you'd may as well just say it in front of both of us."

Dumbledore sighed and nodded his head. "I was visiting the town where Lord Voldemort's muggle father and grandparents lived when they were still alive. I knew, from a source I have, that a small group of remaining Death Eaters had been called back together just before the end of the last school year, and that Voldemort had managed to regain a body. From the reports I received, I knew that Voldemort was holding his meetings in a sizable manor house. I knew that his muggle family owned such a house, and recent investigations showed me that the house had mysteriously _vanished_. I went to investigate and it was during that time that I, quite accidentally, ran into him."

Harry blinked. "You... _ran into him?_ What, like, you were just out for a stroll and there was Voldemort?" Harry asked, incredulously.

"Surprisingly enough... _yes._"

Harry gave Dumbledore a very skeptical look and then glanced over at 'Nick' who gave him an equally skeptical look in return, before it shifted to mild amusement. Finally Harry turned his attention back to Dumbledore and with a small shake of his head and a sigh he continued.

"Oh—kay... Well, I haven't um... noticed anything on my end. I mean, there's been no pain in my scar, or weird dreams or anything. Nothing like first year when Quirrell was possessed."

"That's good to hear, Harry, but I'm afraid that it is irrefutable that he has returned. It is absolutely imperative that we guarantee your safety. It just so happens, that I know, _from my source_, that your entry into the tournament last year was, in fact, the work of Voldemort. How exactly he managed it, I'm afraid we may never know, although I suspect that Bartemus Crouch may have been under the Imperius curse, and was later killed – which would explain his disappearance and his assumed death. While we may not know exactly how he did it, the fact remains that he did."

Harry's eyes widened slightly. "Well... I suspected as much... but... well, nothing actually came of it. I mean, I obviously wasn't _killed_, and outside of the normal dangers of the tasks themselves, I was never even threatened."

"According to my source, the plans that your participation was a part of, were discarded part way through the year. After that, you're entry into the tournament became inconsequential to Voldemort's plans. My source was informed that Lord Voldemort has formed _other_ plans involving you, however he has not been given any details as to the nature of those plans. As long as we are so in the dark, I simply cannot risk you being without antiquate protection."

"Well, it's not really _your_ risk to make, is it?" Harry snapped before managed to regain his composure and school his expression. He let out a slow breath and refocused on Dumbledore again. "Alright, so you want to have guards protecting me or something, right?"

"I would feel better if I knew you had some trained adult wizards nearby to help guarantee your safety." Dumbledore said, nodding his head.

"Okay, then on August 30th I'll go to this super-secret safe-house of yours and stay there until the morning of September 1st. Then I can travel with Hermione and the Weasleys and these 'trained adult wizards' of yours, to Kings Cross. Will _that_ satisfy you?"

"Harry, I really would feel much better if you would agree to be relocated sooner than that. That is a week and a half away and while I understand that you feel you are safe at your current location, I would feel far more secure knowing you were –"

"But _I_ wouldn't feel more secure." Harry said harshly, cutting him off. McGonagall looked at Harry with wide eyes and looked as if she were about to reprimand him.

"But what about buying your new school supplies and books?" Dumbledore asked. "If you were to join the Weasleys and Ms. Granger sooner, say perhaps, _tomorrow_, you could join them for their trip to Diagon Alley. I could have several highly skilled adults there to help guarantee your safety."

"I already purchased my school things."

"You did?"

"Yes, last week. Nick and I spent about an hour in Diagon Alley getting the few remaining things I needed, as I had owl ordered most of it just after my letter arrived with the books and supplies list."

"I did not realize you had been to the Alley recently. That was a very reckless thing to do, Harry."

"Well, obviously no one realized, did they? I refuse to allow my 'celebrity status', nor my potential enemies, make me a prisoner. When we went to Diagon Alley, Nick cast a notice-me-not charm on me and applied a simple glamor. No one even realized it was me. It was not a planned, scheduled, or predictable visit that anyone could have anticipated. No one knew we were going there, so no one could have planned some sort of attack. We took proper precautions. I'm not being reckless, I simply refuse to be cooped up all summer long, be somewhere that I do not feel safe, or someplace I simply don't want to be."

Dumbledore blinked at Harry while McGonagall actually looked mildly impressed, if not surprised that Harry had suddenly developed the nerve to stand up to Dumbledore when he had always been so submissive and awestruck in front of the man before.

"Now are you interested in my going to this safe-house of yours on the 30th, or shall I just stay with Nick until September first?" Harry asked flatly.

Dumbledore frowned, clearly not liking the corner he was seemingly forced into. Tom had no doubt that the old man would like nothing more than to snatch Harry up and take him back to the Order's headquarters by force, but knew that would not go over well. Especially not with 'Nick' present there to witness. Even McGonagall with all her blind loyalty would not stand for Dumbledore basically abducting Harry against his will. Not to mention that it would be fundamentally counterproductive to Dumbledore's overall goal of regaining Harry's trust and loyalty.

Dumbledore heaved a heavy sigh and took on the look of someone greatly disappointed but resigned. "Alright, Harry. I suppose that will be acceptable."

"Good. Nick can side-along apparate me to whatever location we want to use as a meeting place and then your people can take me to this safehouse from there. I was thinking we could meet up at the Leaky Cauldron, unless you have some other place in mind."

"The Cauldron should be suitable I suppose."

"Okay, the 30th is a Friday, and if we do this early enough in the morning the Leaky Cauldron shouldn't be too busy. Will 10am work for you? It's after the breakfast crowd, but before the lunch rush."

"That should do."

"Alright," Harry said with a curt nod. "Sounds like a plan." Harry turned his attention to McGonagall. "Thank you, Professor, for arranging the tests for me. I really do appreciate it. I can already tell I'm going to enjoy Arithmancy and Runes a lot more than Divination and Care. I'm fairly sure I mentioned it, but I already got my approval from the Ministry for the time-turner. My representative said that it should be sent to you sometime in the next week and that you'd have it for me on the first."

"That's correct, Mr. Potter. You realize, of course, that you have to keep your use of it a secret."

"Of course."

"I'll have it ready for you when you arrive to school at the start of term."

"Thanks."

Harry turned back to Dumbledore. "Well sir, I suppose I really must be going. I don't want to be a bother. I'm sure you have more important things to look after so close to the start of the school year."

"Oh, it's quite alright, Harry. You're never a bother."

"Will I be seeing you on the 30th or will you be sending others in your stead?"

"I will likely have to send others. With the start of term being so close I have little time left in the summer and I unfortunately have some tasks I must attend to before then."

"I understand. Who should I be expecting?"

"You can expect Arthur Weasley and Remus Lupin among others."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Alright. Well, good day Professor."

'Nick' nodded as well. "It was a pleasure meeting you."

"Ah, yes. A pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Tomaras." Finally Dumbledore began to head back down the hall the way he came from and McGonagall led Harry and Tom out of the castle and back down the path to the gates where Tom side-along apparated Harry away.

– –

Harry buried his face deeper into Tom's chest and grumbled irritably as he slowly attained consciousness and felt the sun beaming down on his bare back through their bedroom window.

He heard Tom sigh quietly and felt as the elder wizard shifted and stretched his hand up and began to gently card his fingers through Harry's unruly black mop.

"Don't wanna get up," Harry said in a muffled voice and Tom actually chuckled lightly before letting out another quiet sigh.

"I have often had to do things I did not wish to do. I still did it." Tom said simply.

"Remind me again why I have to do this?"

"Because we have plans and if you do not go back to school, it will ruin a great many of them. Plus I refuse to allow my lover to remain uneducated and I do not have the time to teach you everything myself."

Harry sighed and shifted so that his head was now just resting on Tom's shoulder and he could look up at his lover.

"Doesn't mean I have to be happy about it."

"No it doesn't. I'm not exactly ecstatic about it either, but we will endure. You will still be coming to visit me every day once the term starts, just like last year. With Rowle staying at the school full-time I still expect your weekly assistance with the training sessions, especially the lower levels. I refuse to deal with them alone. I would be more likely to spend the entire 'class' cursing them for their disgusting incompetence."

Harry snickered lightly before sighing again. "Yeah, but sleeping in the dorm every night is going to be down-right depressing. I've been spoiled all summer. I'm going to miss this." Harry ended wistfully as he brought his hand up and gently brushed his palm across Tom's exposed chest and then shifted his pelvis, grinding his morning wood into Tom's hip with a mischievous smirk on his face.

Tom made a hissing sound that sent shivers down Harry's spine. Tom always spoke in parseltongue during sex and Harry had slowly started to associate the hissing language with any number of erotic feelings and images. Sometimes all it took was a husky hiss and a flaring of Tom's deep Dark magic, and Harry would find himself desperately aroused. During a few of the training sessions, this had been rather inconvenient.

His endless attraction to Tom had not abated at all, but at least the powerful urges to come together had dimmed. The bond was basically complete now, and the two were left with a content, buzzing, connection, ever present in the backs of their minds, always reminding them of each other's presence.

"I still have every intention of ravishing you as often as time permits," Tom said in a husky tone as he ducked his head down and stole a kiss, pulling Harry's bottom lip between his teeth for a moment and earning him a quiet moan.

Finally he pulled back and Harry sighed as he returned his head to Tom's shoulder. He hummed pleasantly and continued to lightly brush his fingers over Tom's chest and abdomen for another minute. "My sleep-schedule is going to be so screwed up with all the time-turner use. But I suppose I'll manage. I did last year. Of course last year I didn't have to manage Quidditch, and a couple of defense clubs, prefect duties, and training and Death Eater meetings here..." Harry groaned lightly as he was once again reminded of just _how much stuff_ he had to do this year.

"I was thinking about that actually..."

"Hmm?" Harry hummed in question, angling his head and looking up into Tom's eyes, curiously.

"The student-issue time-turner from the school will only permit you to go back a total of six hours a day, correct?"

"Right."

"Mine, however, is a 24-hour time-turner."

"Right..." Harry said slowly.

"While I'm sure it would get a bit confusing at first, I was wondering how you would feel about living every day _twice._"

Harry furrowed his brow. "Live each day twice?" he echoed, curiously. "You mean, like I'd live the whole day, just at Hogwarts, then use your time-turner to go back to the start of the day and live the day again at the manor?"

"Correct."

"So I'd spend a night in my dorm and then go back and spend that same night at the manor with you... alternating back and forth."

"That was the idea."

Harry smirked. "Sounds like you completely win with this plan. _You_ never have to sleep in an empty bed."

"Yes, that is most certainly a benefit I appreciate on my end. As for you, I would imagine that spending every _other_ night here would still be preferable to spending no nights here at all," Tom pointed out. His tone sounded bored, but Harry knew that Tom really had been just as unhappy as he was with the idea of Harry leaving the manor for several months on end to go back to Hogwarts.

Harry leaned back, looking up at the cream-colored ceiling for a minute, thinking over the possibilities.

"The day where I have to spend the whole thing at Hogwarts would kind of suck, but it would be worth it to have a whole day following it here. It would also mean that there would be no disruption in 'Evan's' attendance to the Death Eater meetings and the training sessions, so no one would get suspicious about that." Harry said, thoughtfully.

"A very valid benefit."

"How long have you been thinking of this? I mean... why wait till _now_ to mention it?" Harry asked. He actually felt mildly annoyed. He'd been brooding the last week, knowing he was going to have to leave soon. Had he known that he could still be spending at least every-other-day with Tom, his looming departure to Hogwarts wouldn't have seemed quite so depressing.

"I was still debating," Tom said with a mild sniff.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"You would still have to make use of your student-issue time-turner to make it to your two conflicting classes during your day at Hogwarts, but that's certainly not a problem," Tom continued easily a moment later and Harry nodded his head.

"You know, doing it this way will probably be safer anyways. Instead of having to sneak out of the castle at random intervals, multiple times a day, I just do it once a day. Although doing it at the same time and place every day could become predictable and risk getting caught... Maybe I'll do it when I have to go out for my prefect rounds."

"You're a smart boy, Harry. I'm confident that you can do this without making any stupid mistakes."

Harry smirked back up at Tom and wrapped his hand around the elder wizard's torso, holding him tight for a minute. He sighed again and glanced at the clock on Tom's bedside table.

"Fuck," he muttered. It was ten till nine o'clock. They had decided to skip their morning workout and just sleep in that morning. Even with this new possible development of Harry doing a day-on and a day-off schedule, it didn't change the fact that for the next three days he would be stuck in the Order's headquarters and be unable to port-key back.

During the next few days while he was going to be trapped at the Order's headquarters, there would have been both a beginner training session, and an advanced training session at the manor. The advanced one would still progress as scheduled, even though both Evan and Thor would be gone. But Voldemort could easily deal with the advanced group on his own as they didn't need their hands held and were good at following the Dark Lord's orders. The beginners training session, however, had been canceled. Tom simply didn't have the patience to put up with their repeated failures, and their ignorance. They frustrated him with their ineptitude. Having Thor gone for the whole school year was going to make his tolerance for the beginner group strained to say the least. Thor was what made that class work since the man was accustomed to teaching idiots.

Everyone knew that Thor had been appointed as the DADA instructor at Hogwarts, so they were aware that he would not longer be around for the training sessions, but Evan's absence for the next three days had been explained away as the Dark Lord's apprentice being sent away on some mission.

Still, if 'Evan' had continued to be gone during the entire school year, it would begin to catch some people's notice. Harry's plan had been to just use the time-turner to sneak back as many evenings as he could manage, but that plan had been shaky and there were a lot of potential problems that could arise from it – especially once Thor's Defense clubs started up and Harry was busy with that... _and_ Quiddicht... _and_ his OWL classes... _and_ his prefect duties... Harry hadn't been looking forward to his workload this coming year.

Tom's new suggestion, however, really did solve a lot of those problems. And it would mean he had even more time to work on his school work.

Harry huffed out and shifted in the bed, rolling onto his back. "I suppose we should get up."

"That would probably be wise."

"Wise sucks."

Tom snorted mildly.

"The next few days are going to be awful, I just know it." Harry grumbled.

"Quite whining, you're being a brat." Tom scolded him.

Harry turned and scowled playfully at Tom, who simply rose a single contemptuous brow in response.

"At least I can contact you over the link if I need to. If I was completely cut off I'd feel suffocated." Harry said with a sigh.

"You'll be fine, Love. It's just a few days and then you'll be at Hogwarts and we can begin moving forward on some of our plans."

Harry nodded his head, smiling at the fact that Tom was trying to make him feel better. "Oh hey – if I do the 'every day twice' thing, I'll be able to help you with fixing up and relocating to the Abbey!"

"Do you really wish to call it that?"

"What? An Abbey? That's what it is."

"No, it's what it _was, _a very long time ago."

"Well I guess I could call it a castle. Maybe we should rename it. I mean, _this _is Riddle Manor, although no one besides us really knows that. I guess the Death Eaters just call it the Dark Lord's manor or the Dark Sect's headquarters... Anyway, the new castle _is_ technically named Morhda Abbey, although I suppose Morhda _Castle_ could work too."

Tom didn't respond and Harry went quiet again as he thought over things some more. "Whatever, we can figure out what to call it later. Anyway, you know, the more I think about it, the more I think it's probably the best idea if I do use your time-turner to live every day twice. If I do that, on the days that I'm here, I'll be able to go through the morning exercise routines like normal. I'll only be exercising every other day, but it's still better than having to basically stop all together which I would probably have to do otherwise."

"Yes, also true." Tom sighed again and shifted until he could sit up in bed, causing Harry to roll off him. "Come on, Love. Shower, then breakfast. We are short on time if we are going to get to the Cauldron in time."

Harry frowned and lay there for a minute while Tom climbed out of the bed, exposing his fully naked body to Harry's pleased, appraising eyes. Finally Harry gave in and rolled out of bed. His backside was quite sore from the previous night's activities and he sat on it tenderly before standing and following Tom into their bathroom wondering if they had time for any more 'activities' before he had to leave.

– –

Kibby and Grader prepared breakfast that morning. Mixey was still at Morhda Abbey overseeing the two newly acquired elves who were working on fixing the place up. There was a lot of work to do, and even with the enthusiasm and seemingly endless energies that house elves displayed, it was too much for only two elves. Especially the gardens. It was becoming clear that if they intended to maintain the gardens, they might need to buy another elf or two just for that.

Tom and Harry's meal was mostly subdued as Harry was brooding again. He'd heard a number of vague stories from his 'friends' letters of the place he was going to be staying over the next few days and it was not looking forward to it one bit.

The two finally slipped into their normal morning conversation as Tom looked over the Daily Prophet and they discussed what some of the political news _really_ meant and what tidbits about the pureblood families in the gossip columns were actually valuable.

At ten till, the pair went to the entrance hall. Grader popped in with Harry's trunk and Hedwig in her cage before bidding 'Young Master' farewell, bowing low and popping back out. Harry tapped his wand on the top of the trunk, activating the automatic shrinking charm, and slipped it into his pocket.

"I'll be apparating us to the courtyard in the back of the Cauldron. Tom said as he slipped on his ring, activating the glamor that would disguise him as Nicodemus Tomaras while Harry removed his ring, conjured a long silver chain through it and hung it around his neck, tucking the ring under his shirt and fastening the top buttons up on his high-necked collar.

He was dressed in much the same style as he had been the day he visited Hogwarts for his tests. The robe he was wearing this time was, once again, snug to his upper torso and with crisp lines and a high neck. It was sleeveless again, for the warm summer months. It was a newer fashion – one that Tom had said would never fly in his day, but he liked it on Harry, and Harry found it comfortable and liked how it left his movement free. The robe hung down from his hips, hanging limply in heavy curtains down to his ankles. The robe was fastened from just below his chin down to his waist, then open in the front the rest of the way down, displaying his tight fitted black pants and shiny black shoes. He had his holly and phoenix feather wand in his disillusioned wrist holster while his cypress wand was packed away in his trunk.

Tom gave him a brief appraising look before reaching up and carding his fingers through Harry's hair. Again, Harry was wearing it wild, rather than slicking it back. That would be to dramatic a change for his 'friends' and schoolmates. _Harry Potter did not willing put his scar on display._

Still, the dramatic increase in length would likely catch them all off guard anyway. Harry didn't care. He wouldn't cut it for the world. Tom liked it this way, and he found he really liked it too. It was also easier to manage when it was longer. He hadn't yet decided just how long he was going to let it get, but he thought that shoulder-length was probably as far as he'd go.

"Ready to go?" Tom asked and Harry turned to look at him with a reluctant smile.

Finally, Harry sighed and nodded his head. "I'm ready."

Tom held out his arm and Harry grasped his forearm with one hand while the other held onto Hedwig's cage. Harry felt the uncomfortable squeezing sensation, followed by the feeling of being pulled through a tube as Tom side-along apparated him out of the manor.

They appeared with a soft _crack_ in the empty courtyard behind the Leaky Cauldron, and the seemingly innocuous blank brick wall that transformed into the archway into the alley when properly activated. Opposite the blank wall was the door that led back inside the wizarding pub and inn. Harry and Tom quickly slipped inside and glanced around, looking for the Order members that were supposed to take Harry to their secret headquarters for 'his protection.'

It only took them a moment to identify the group, currently gathered around a round table against one wall of the pub. Lupin noticed Harry's arrival first. A moment later the rest of them looked up as a group, and they quickly began to stand. Harry and Tom made their way towards the group, coming to a stop a few feet away as the last of the Order members stood up and gathered.

"Harry," Lupin said in a soft voice, as he looked Harry over with mildly surprised eyes. He blinked away his surprise and smiled softly. "It's good to see you. I'm glad you made it alright."

"Hello Professor Lupin. It's been a while."

"None of this Professor nonsense. I haven't been your teacher in over a year. Just call me Remus."

Harry nodded his head and gave a kind smile in return. "Alright, Remus. And hello Mr. Weasley," Harry said as the familiar red-headed man came to stand beside Lupin."

"Ah, hello Harry. It's so good to see you alive and well. I must say, your little disappearing act this summer gave us quite a fright."

"I'm sorry to have worried you all. I told Ron I'd be gone and I wrote to him, Ginny, and the Twins over the summer. I had hoped that would be enough to quell everyone's fears that I'd been kidnapped or something."

"Yes, yes. They did keep insisting you were fine. Still, we worried," Arthur Weasley said.

"Well, I am sorry for that. Um, oh yes. Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Nicodemus. Nick, this is Remus Lupin – he was friends with my father when they were younger, and he was my Defense professor in 3rd year. And this is Arthur Weasley the father of the friends I told you about, and... I... don't know the rest, I'm afraid."

"It's a pleasure to meet the two of you," Tom said with a convincingly kind smile.

Lupin shook Tom's hand, and then Mr. Weasley did the same. They then turned back to the rest of the group. "As for the rest of us," Lupin began, "This is Nymphadora Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt – both trained Aurors, and this is Emmaline Vance, Hestia Jones, and Dedalus Diggle."

Diggle stepped forward eagerly and shook Harry's hand while saying something about it being an 'honor'. Emmaline Vance then repeated his actions almost verbatim while Hestia Jones took on a more respectable attitude, but still shook his hand. Tonks greeted him with a grin and a little wave of her fingers while Kingsley just nodded his head. The group then greeted 'Nick'.

Harry blinked at the large group once introductions were finally finished. "All this just to get me to headquarters?"

"Well, you're safety is one of our highest priorities!" Diggle exclaimed, causing Harry to raise a single incredulous eyebrow at the man before schooling his expression.

"Er... that's... great. Um... Still seems a bit overkill just to side-along me where ever it is we're going to." Harry said, still taking in the large group. He glanced over at Tom, who looked almost amused at the ridiculous scene.

"Oh, we're not apparating. We're _flying._" Vance said with an eager, expectant grin.

Harry blinked at her. "Flying? You mean, brooms?"

"Of course!" Diggle said.

"Why?" Harry asked, both stunned and bewildered.

"Well, it's not all that far..." Diggle trailed off before glancing hesitantly over at 'Nick', who was undoubtedly not supposed to know 'where' the headquarters was actually located.

"Well, sure, but even if it's next door, I don't see why you don't just apparate me there. Flying on brooms could be followed. You can't track apparition, unless the person apparating has already been tagged with a tracking charm. It just seems like it would be more secure if we just apparated."

"We didn't know if you'd be very comfortable with being side-along apparated." Remus explained softly. "We knew you're much more comfortable with broom travel, and thought we'd go with that."

Harry blinked at him. "Is that all? You do realize that _Nick_ just side-along apparated me _here_, right?"

"There are also anti-apparition wards on the house we'll be going to." Tonks added weakly with a shrug.

"Yeah, but we can always apparate to just outside the wards and walk in, right?" Harry said in a tone that made it obvious he thought they were all being idiots.

They looked sheepishly between each other.

"I mean... if you _really_ want to take brooms, then fine," Harry said, "I can dig mine out – it's shrunk down in my trunk, which is shrunk down and in my pocket right now – but it just seems kind of silly to me."

"See, even the boy thinks it's a ridiculous plan. Can we just apparate him now?" Kingsley asked, raising his brows impatiently at the others, who now looked even more sheepish and embarrassed. Harry rolled his eyes.

"I suppose it's probably for the best. We'll just go to the court yard and apparate from there," Mr. Weasley said and the group gathered up their things (many of them had brooms leaning against their chairs. Harry assumed the rest had them shrunk down on their person somewhere) and they headed back out to the back courtyard.

Once there, Harry turned to 'Nick' and paused. The two just stared into each other's eyes for a moment and Tom reached his hand up, brushing some of the long, wavy black strands out from Harry's face and tucked them behind his ear before leaning in and brushing his lips against Harry's.

Harry's arms came up and wrapped around Tom's neck, holding on tight and deepening the kiss with an air of desperation. Finally, he pulled away, but they ended up resting their foreheads against each other.

"I'm going to miss you," Harry said.

"I love you, Harry," Tom said, so easily, you would think he'd said it a thousand times already. Harry nearly gasped. His eyes widened and he pulled back, staring at Tom with utter shock on his face.

"I love you," Harry whispered before plunging back in, capturing Tom's lips with a fiery passion, and holding onto the elder wizard as if his life depended on it. One of Tom's hands buried its way into Harry's hair, while the other held him at the small of his back, pressing them together.

Harry wasn't sure how long they kissed, but the sound of someone clearing their throat reminded him that they had an audience and he reluctantly pulled away, panting lightly. Tom smirked down at him, but there was a softness to his eyes that wasn't often there.

Harry couldn't even remember the last time he felt so emotionally overwhelmed.

"You'd better write," Tom said with a teasing smile. Harry smirked back and nodded his head.

"Thank you, _so much_ for inviting me for the summer," Harry said, truly meaning it. "This has been the best summer of my life."

"Thank you for coming." Tom replied with a smirk.

One more quick peck passed between them before the two released each other's holds and parted.

"Goodbye, Nick," Harry said, taking a few steps back and standing beside Lupin.

"Goodbye, Love. You'll visit at Yule, yes?"

Harry smiled and nodded his head. "You bet."

"I'll come to Hogsmeade the weekend before Samhain."

"It's a date," Harry replied with a grin.

"Love you," Tom said, and again, the words came so easily, and it made Harry's knees feel weak, and the tiniest prickle of tears threaten at his eyes.

"Love you too," Harry whispered just as Lupin placed his hand on Harry's shoulder and felt his world get compressed before he felt like he was being sucked through a tube, away from Tom.

– –

END OF PART ONE

– –

**AN:**** I will post Part Two after it's finished being written. That means, you've got a wait – probably two months or so – before another update will be posted.**

Review Replies -

**TheSecretUchiha:**___Also, just wondering and apologies if you've answered this before, but _

_how many parts are there going to be?_

- There will be 3 parts, at least. Possibly 4.

**To Golden Flare - **A lot of your questions are specifically addressed in the first

chapter of part 2... so while it's not far off in the story, over-all, it'll be a

while before it gets posted because... well, it's in part 2 and I'm not posting that

till it's done.

**Erisabeisuu:** _Out of curiosity will Neville be in the 'Intermediate' group or is the _

_poor boy a lost cause? And what ever happened to Winky?_

- I haven't made any set plans about Neville yet. As for Winky... yeah, I'd totally

forgotten about the elf. Nothing specific planned about her at all. She's still a

'free' elf who gets paid a salary to work at Hogwarts, instead of the school owning her

contract, so she isn't magically bound to be loyal to the headmaster. I could

theoretically make use of her should the need arise, but like I said - I'd totally

forgotten about her, so I've got no plans at the moment regarding her.

**To Nightshade07** - Most of your questions would involve giving away important plot

points, so I'll answer the only one that's 'safe'. 'How long will this series last?' -

I intend to end the 'series' with this book. At least, that's my intention. We'll see

how it plays out. As for this book, like I've said before, it's going to be at least 3

parts long.

**AspergianStoryteller: **_Nearly 15 really is rather young to be having sex. So, is Tom a _

_virgin also?_

- Probably TMI, but I lost my V-card when I was fifteen, so I honestly don't have any

qualms with the idea of a 15-year old doing the deed. Of course, in the real world,

someone the age of Tom being with someone who is 15 is a very different matter, but

this is fiction, so /_meh_/. :P As for Tom being a virgin. o_O er... no. Definitely

not. lol

**To mist shadow** - I have absolutely no plans of having Harry and/or Tom personally start

to build some big child welfare house. They'll secretly pull strings from the shadows

for a while to get the Ministry to start getting things going, but they've got more

pressing needs to deal with.

**AirKnitter:** _Just one question, and I know I won't get an answer, :) but will Ron, _

_Neville and Luna join Harry? And will Remus come round? Is Sirius dead in your story?_

- Dealings with Remus will start during the first chapter of Part 2. Sirius is not

dead, Breeding Darkness takes place during 5th year (Sirius died at the end of the 5th

book in cannon - but he won't be dying in this story, even then). As for Ron, Neville,

and Luna - that would be giving away distant plot points so I won't answer.

**FreeAmber:** _will this story be mpreg? What is the view on gay partners in WW society? _

_Will Harry have a family ( meaning children)?_

- I have no plans for this story to be mpreg. In this story WW's view on

homosexuality is probably about in line with the British muggle's view on it. Fairly

open-minded in general, but there are, of course, some people who frown on it, and some

who down-right hate the idea. Will Harry & Tom have a family? Definitely not in the

plans at the moment. They're both planning a huge war and that's no environment to

raise a child. Plus, neither are planning on dying anytime soon, so they probably

think they'd have a long time to ever think about something like that.

**adenoide :** _Harry will have a good argument to bring him on the Voldy's side. Maybe to _

_tell to Sirius that Dumby never try to give him a trial because he want to send Harry _

_with the Dursley._

- This happened towards the end of the previous story. When Harry approached Sirius,

initially with his glamor on, and showed him the pensieve memories, he also covered the

fact that Dumbledore had left Sirius in Azkaban so that he could have control over

Harry's life and how he was raised.

**White Ivy:** _How was Harry's conversation with Charlus' portrait enlightening? _

- The conversation was with Harrison Potter (Charlus Potter's father), not Charlus. And the reason it was enlightening will be covered further in Part 2.

**Rasberry Jo: **_mpreg a possibility or impossibility in this verse?_

- I have no plans for it, as stated above, but I'm not going to come out and say that it's impossible. But not likely.


	13. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary: Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta Pass by tannne

AN: Surprise! Posting this earlier than planned. The next three chapters are of Grimmauld Place, and I figured I'd just post those. There will be a bit (maybe 2 weeks) after that until I post the next batch of chapters. I'm estimating about 7 chapters will be posted in early December.

– –

Chapter 12

When the dizziness of side-along apparition had abated and Harry's vision had cleared, he found himself standing with the large group of Order members on a muggle street in what he knew was still London, since he already knew the address of the Order's headquarters thanks to Sirius's 'gift' on his birthday. Harry blinked once, still clearing his head and looked around at the group, expectantly. Kingsley then stepped forward, dug into the pockets of his robes, and handed Harry a piece of parchment.

"Read and memorize that and focus on the words in your mind. Then look straight ahead at the space between numbers eleven and thirteen," he said, motioning forward to the two old muggle townhouses before him.

Harry actually already saw Number 12 there, but he certainly wasn't going to tell _them_ that. He looked down at the piece of parchment and read it over. It looked almost identical to the scrap of parchment that Sirius had managed to smuggle to him earlier in the summer. Once Harry was done, he looked forward and Number 12 was still there. He pretended to be surprised by what he assumed would normally be the shocking appearance of a house that wasn't there and then handed the paper back to Kingsley. It wasn't like he needed it. He still had the one from his birthday back at the manor with Tom.

Kinglsey promptly burned the parchment and the group set forward towards the Order's headquarters. They climbed the steps to the porch and Lupin pushed the front door open, leading the way inside. The moment he had set foot inside, Harry felt the overwhelming presence of _Dark_ magic inside the house. It was literally absorbed into the walls. Like it had seeped in over a long period of time, leaving it so deeply ingrained that it could never fully be removed. The old house seemed to _pulse_ with darkness and Harry caught himself sighing slightly at the comfortable feeling the place gave him. Lupin looked back at him and gave him a curious look for a moment but seemed to push forward and ignore it a moment later. Harry looked back and noticed that as each of the others entered through the door they seemed to shudder with discomfort.

The front door opened into a long hallway, lit by a large chandelier and dirty gas lamps. The wallpaper was peeling and faded and the carpet had been worn thin. Harry walked past an umbrella stand, which appeared to either be made to look like a troll's leg, or actually _was_ one. Harry raised a single eyebrow at it but kept going. A moment later, he heard a small yelp and turned to find the young female Auror - Nymphadora Tonks? - had tripped over the umbrella stand. Strangely enough, when she did that, her _hair _changed to hot pink. It was also at that moment that the most ear piercing screams of rage began to pour from a portrait hanging on the wall just ahead of where he was standing.

Curtains flew open and behind them was the portrait of an elderly witch who looked absolutely insane was screaming violently. She was cursing and spitting and yelling things about filthy blood traitors and mudbloods, infesting her noble home. Harry grimaced and sneered at the obnoxious noise but found himself amused at what she was actually ranting about. If he were some old Dark witch and knew that _his_ home had been taken residence by a bunch of Light wizards, he would be pissed too.

Lupin ran forward and began to pull the curtain shut over the portrait again, but that only muffled her angry rant of insults.

"OH SHUT UP, YOU MAD OLD COW!" roared a familiar voice from the doorway on the opposite side of the hall from the portrait.

Harry spun to the side, staring in shock at the figure he now saw standing there.

"Sirius?" Harry exclaimed. "Wha... what are _you_ doing here?"

Sirius blinked at Harry for a moment before a small sheepish smile graced his face. He looked a _lot_ better than he had two months ago, but he still had that haunted look to his sunken eyes.

"I heard my pup was going to be staying here for the last few days of his holiday and I thought I'd drop by and say hello." Sirius said with a shrug.

Harry gaped at him for a moment before he'd recovered himself. "That's... very um... nice of you. It's good to see you again. Really. Er... but you're not _staying_ here after I go back to school, _right?_"

Sirius scowled and looked around the hall at the now muffled, but still screaming portrait that Lupin was still trying to subdue. "Most definitely _not._"

Harry grinned lightly. "Good."

"Wotcher Sirius!" the girl Auror said in a chipper voice.

"Hello cousin Tonks," Sirius said with a wolfish grin and an overdone bow.

"Kingsley and me are going to head on out."

"Alright, Tonks. See ya later."

"See you again on September 1st!"

Kingsley and Tonks then made their way down the hallway to the end where there were two sets of stairs. One going up, and one going down. They went down. Harry looked over at Sirius with a questioning look on his face.

"Down the stairs is the kitchen. There's a floo in there."

"Ah," Harry said in understanding as he nodded his head.

A moment later, Hestia Jones, Dedalus Diggle, and Emmaline Vance also bid their farewells – Diggle taking another opportunity to shake Harry's hand – and also went down the end of the hall and disappeared towards the kitchen.

"This is a lost cause," Lupin grumbled as he gave up on the portrait and he, Harry and Sirius disappeared into the doorway Sirius had appeared from and closed the door behind them. The room was a large dining room with a long table lined with delicately carved wooden chairs. Against one wall was a large glass cabinet that had a large shield with what Harry knew to be the Black Family Crest on it, and below it in the shelves were the house china and glass goblets.

The room had clearly been 'cleaned up' and yet it still managed to have that old and dirty, feeling to it.

Harry could tell what furniture and objects were original inhabitants of the house and what things had been added since the Order had taken over. Anything that _belonged_ to the house was steeped in Dark taint and tingled at Harry's senses. The newer stuff just felt bland and uninteresting. He wondered what the other two felt here. Lupin, being a werewolf, was Dark, whether he liked it or not. And, of course, Sirius, no matter how badly he wished for it, simply couldn't overcome his heredity and upbringing.

Harry finished his brief look around the room before looking back at Sirius, who was smiling at him with a bit of trepidation.

Lupin looked between the two of them hesitantly and seemed to shift with mild discomfort before he began to edge back. "I... suppose, I'll leave the two of you to talk. You've probably got a lot to catch up on."

Sirius looked over at Lupin thankfully. "Thanks, Remus. I appreciate that. I'll come up in a bit."

Lupin turned and left the dining room as quietly as he could manage, closing the door behind him slowly so as to not alert the screaming portrait in the hall.

Harry gave Sirius another silent, questioning look. Sirius held up a finger to signal Harry to wait, pulled out a wand and cast a privacy ward around them.

"He's staying here right now," Sirius said once the ward was cast. "Dumbledore has him on some ridiculous mission to try and recruit some of the Lycan clans."

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah, _that's_ going to work," he said, sarcastically.

Sirius grinned weakly and chuckled. "Yeah, he's not exactly _optimistic _about his chances of success either. But for now, he came back here to help collect you for this and for a place to stay during the full moon. It's next week."

"I see," Harry said, nodding his head.

The two shuffled a bit in obvious discomfort. The whole thing felt a bit stilted and awkward. Harry huffed out a sigh and ran his hand through his hair.

"You look different." Sirius said.

Harry looked himself over for a moment before grinning a bit and shrugging. "Yeah, well, I finally managed to get myself some respectable wizards clothing. Grew my hair out. That's really about it."

"You look good. So still, um... _working out_ every day with er... your _friend._" Sirius asked, looking uncomfortable.

Harry chuckled. "Yup. Every morning, all summer. I've been helping out in the training sessions too."

Sirius looked back up at him, curiously.

"His... _servants._ They've been coming to the manor in groups for extra training. Quite a few had gotten out of shape since they last served him and some of the new recruits needed extra lessons."

Sirius's eyes widened for a moment before he grimaced. "And you've been helping with that?"

"Yup."

Sirius nodded his head slowly, looking at the floor. "So um... how was your summer, then?"

"Fantastic," Harry said with legitimate enthusiasm. "Best summer of my life."

Sirius looked back with a slightly surprised look to his face. "Is that so?"

"Yes. Definitely."

Sirius nodded again and then sighed. "I'm... I'm sorry, pup... that I couldn't... _you know._"

"Don't worry about it Sirius. It really wouldn't have worked out, anyway. Honestly, I'm glad we had the manor to ourselves for as much as we did. What did you do this summer, anyway? Where's Buckbeak?"

"Buckbeak is still with me. He's actually up in the Master Bedroom on the fourth floor, right now." Sirius said with a devilish smirk. "It was my dear old mother's room, once upon a time." he chuckled. "As for what I've been up to, well... I've been here and there. Been using glamors to get around most of the time, and I've kept myself holed up in various places. Recently rented myself a muggle flat, actually... although no one else knows that. As far as the Order knows, I'm off searching independently to try and track down Wormtail."

"How much longer do you think that's going to work?"

"It's not like they can _force_ me to join up with the Order again – not like they'd let me do anything for them anyway. Since they have to _protect me_ from being discovered by the Ministry. If Dumbledore had his way, I'd be a prisoner in this shitty old house. To hell with that. Aside from the day earlier in the summer when I let Dumbledore in here and let him cast the Fidelius over this place, I hadn't set foot in this house once until yesterday."

"I imagine Remus is probably trying pretty hard to get you to stay here..."

"He is," Sirius said with a sigh. "He's worried. Afraid I'm going to get myself caught and kissed by a dementor before anyone can act to try and help me."

"I've got a few people in the DMLE and two Unspeakables who are under orders that if you're ever brought into the Ministry, to try and stall any contact with a dementor for as long as possible so I can try and scrounge together some sort of rescue attempt."

Sirius blinked at Harry in obvious surprise. "Wait... _what?_"

"What part of what I said did you not understand?"

"The part where you said that _you have people in the DMLE. _ What do you even mean by that?" Sirius asked incredulously.

"Well, I guess it'd be more appropriate to say that the_ Dark Lord has people_ in the DMLE, but they answer to me too, and the Dark Lord was okay with the order to assist you. Of course it's an order to assist as long as it doesn't compromise their position, but as long as they _can_ help, they _will._"

Sirius's mouth floundered slightly and he blinked slowly, as if trying to process something difficult. "Oh–kay... um... why?"

"Why was the Dark Lord willing to do it, or why would I bother at all?"

"Er... both?"

"You're my godfather. Aside from the Dark Lord himself, you're the closest thing I've got to family. I want to protect you."

Sirius made a choking sound and looked at Harry incredulously. "You consider the Dark Lord _family?"_

"Well, technically he is. I did a bunch of genealogy research this summer and it turns out he and I are blood related. We're distant cousins."

"WHAT?"

Harry cringed. "You keep yelling that loud and I don't think even the privacy ward will keep the rest of the house from hearing you!"

"Harry, that's absolutely absurd! How can you be blood related to Voldemort!"

"My mum's great-great-grandmother was a squib who was disowned from the Gaunt family. The Gaunts were the last living descendants of Salazar Slytherin. That same squib was the Dark Lord's great-aunt."

"You've got to be kidding," Sirius said in a weak tone. "Lily was related to _Slytherin? _Related to _Voldemort_!"

"Yup. I imagine the only reason she never got sorted into his house was because of all the muggle blood in her. She never manifested any of the blood traits because of the same reason. Her blood was too diluted to carry enough power to work the parselmage talents. We figure that I managed to get them because her blood mixed with the powerful magical lineage from my dad's line and it was enough to give me a boost."

Sirius still looked stunned. "So... that's why you're a parselmouth?"

"Yeah. Dumbledore would have me believe it's because the Dark Lord gave me some of his power when he tried to kill me, and while that's a potentially valid excuse, it doesn't explain away all of my abilities. I mean, if I was _only_ a parselmouth, I could buy that excuse, but I'm a full fledged parselmage and that's something that would have to be in my blood."

"Parselmage?"

"It's complicated.

Sirius shook his head and sighed, looking utterly exhausted. "You're really _related_ to him?"

"Yes, I really am. It's a distant relation though. I don't think it matters too awful much. I mean, I'm related to you, Draco and Narcissa Malfoy through my great-grandmother Dorea Potter, nee Black. I had no idea about any of that till this summer when I was doing that genealogy research. I mean.. bloody hell, Sirius, you and I are actually blood related! Honestly, I think that's kind of... fantastic. I don't know. It just means something to me. I grew up thinking the only blood relatives I had were the bloody Dursley's, and to find that I've actually got blood relatives besides them is somehow a great relief. It gives me something more tangible to hold on to I think. More than this amorphous idea that my dead parents were a witch and wizard. That's one of the main reasons that Tom was willing to allow me to commit some resources to keeping you safe, should it come up."

"Even though I refused to join him?"

"He never expected you to. I was the only one stupid enough to get my hopes up for that."

"I'm sorry Harry..."

"I already told you, it's okay."

The two were quiet again for a few moments before Sirius spoke again. "So how was your birthday? Fifteen now, yeah?"

Harry grinned widely. "It was pretty brilliant. And yes, fifteen. Although I technically hit fifteen probably a week or two before my actual birthday. I did a lot of time-turner use during the last term of school. Its sounding like I'll be doing even more of it this year."

"A time-turner? Where the heck did you get one of those?"

"Tom. Dark Lords tend to have lots of neat things like time-turners lying around."

"It's so weird to think his name is _Tom..._"

"Yeah... make sure you don't go repeating that to anyone."

Sirius snorted, but then sighed. "Did you eh... make use of my gift?"

Harry's face hardened and he glared at Sirius faintly for a moment before sighing and shaking his head. "That was rather _rude_ of you, you know."

"I've never been known much for my tact. But you didn't answer my question. Did you use it?"

"Yes I did, and it stayed blue."

"Really?" Sirius asked, looking legitimately surprised.

"_Yes,_" Harry said through slightly clenched teeth.

"Harry –"

"Just... _don't_, Sirius. Just don't."

Sirius opened his mouth to say something else, but just then the door opened and in popped Molly Weasley's face. A quick wave of Sirius' wand and a silent _finite_ and the privacy ward dissolved.

"Oh, Harry! You are here!" Molly Weasley said in an excited but hushed voice as she shut the door quietly as to not alert the nasty portrait in the hall and quickly raced over to him, enveloping him in a hug. She then proceeded to scold him for running off without telling an adult, and then insisting that he should have told her sooner about how he was being treated by his horrible relatives. Next, she went on about how he was always welcome to come and stay at the Burrow and if she had anything to say about it, he would never set foot in his muggle relatives' house again.

Finally, she finished up by saying that 'the kids' were all anxious to see him and he should go up to say hi right away. Sirius took that opportunity to offer to give Harry a quick tour and drop him off with the other kids. The three left the dining room and re-entered the hall. Mrs. Weasley took the stairs going down to the kitchen, while he and Sirius headed up.

The wall was lined with mounted decapitated house elf heads, each with a brass nameplate. Sirius made some remark about disgusting family traditions before reaching the first floor landing and pointing down the hall.

"Through that door is the drawing room. It's at the front of the house, has nice big windows, and has been cleaned up better than some other places in this house. It's also got the Black Family tapestry mounted to the wall. You said you'd been looking into genealogy, so it might interest you." Sirius said, pointing towards one door. "That's the bathroom, and that's the bedroom that Ginny and Hermione are sharing," he continued before heading up the next flight of stairs.

Once at the top of the second flight of stairs Sirius paused again. "That door leads to the Black Family library, that one to the room the twins are sharing, that one to the bathroom, and that one is the room that you'll be sharing with Ron."

Harry grimaced lightly at the thought of sharing with Ron again. He'd definitely be erecting some silencing wards around his bed to keep out the ginger's snoring.

"Third floor has my old room where I'm staying right now, and where Remus stays when he visits the house and isn't locked in the basement for the full moon. My brother Regulus' old room is across the hall from it and it's currently unoccupied, and finally the bedroom that Molly and Arthur are sharing right now.

"Fourth floor only houses a storage attic and the master bedroom where I currently have Buckbeak housed because it's got a large terrace and easy access to outside."

Harry nodded, taking it all in. "Well it's really rather impressive."

Sirius snorted.

"Is Regulus's room not fixed up yet?"

"Why?"

"It just seems weird that there are people doubling up when there's a room going unused. I could stay in there instead of crowding in on Ron. Although I guess it is only for two nights, so it's not a huge deal."

"Regulus' room seems to be sacred territory to the family house elf. Anytime anyone tried to touch the room, he threw a monumental fit. I wasn't around to order him to shut up, so they just left the room be."

"House elf?"

"Yes, the little bastard is utterly insane. He stayed in the house for over a decade with nothing but the insane portrait of my mother to keep him company."

"The screaming woman in the entry hall?"

"Right."

"She seemed just lovely, Sirius," Harry said, sarcastically, earning him a snort.

"Harry? Merlin's beard, is that you?" a familiar female voice called from behind him and he turned around, just in time to almost get barreled over by Ginny running up the stairs and grabbing him around the waist. "You great prat! How long have you been here?"

Harry just barely managed to regain his footing and righted himself and the over enthusiastic redhead before separated himself from her. "Not that long. Sirius was just giving me the 'grand tour'."

"Well everyone is gathered in the drawing room, you should come down! We didn't know you were already here!"

"Alright, alright. I'm coming," Harry said. He glanced back at Sirius who gave him a weak smile.

"I've got to go talk to Remus anyway. I'll see you at lunch."

"See ya, Sirius." Harry said as Ginny began to drag him back down the stairs and through the door that Sirius had pointed out as being the drawing room.

"Harry!" the familiar voice of the twins called out as he was dragged through the door. They were both sitting on a settee facing the door, playing a game of exploding snap on the coffee table before them, so they spotted him first. Sitting directly opposite them and the coffee table on a long couch was another familiar redhead, that promptly spun around in his seat to look at Harry.

Ron's face initially held expectant excitement and a wide smile. The second he fully processed what was before him his expression slacked to shock. Hermione, who was sitting diagonally from him turned her head and took on a similar level of surprise as she took in the sight of him.

"Look who I found hanging out on the third floor with Sirius! He came right past this room and didn't even come in!" Ginny said with mock indignation, while propping her hands on her hips. Harry looked at her with an amused smirk.

"Harry! Blimey mate, is that you?" Ron finally managed to get out.

"Yes, Ron." Harry said in a slow drawn out tone that sound the one would speak to a young child, or someone very stupid. "I haven't changed _that much._"

"Yes you have!" Ron squeaked. "Look at you!"

Harry looked down at himself for a moment before looking back up at Ron with an expression between bewilderment and annoyance. "I bought proper clothes and grew my hair out. It's not that big a difference. I'm sure once I'm in my school robes again, I won't look much different than before."

"It looks like a big difference to me," Ron said, beginning to look a bit embarrassed.

"You look really.. _good_, Harry," Hermione said, speaking for the first time. "I think you grew some too. A bit taller, perhaps, and you're um... bigger." Hermione blushed suddenly and darted her eyes to the book in her lap.

Harry's brow furrowed, trying to work out what Hermione meant.

Fred and George suddenly burst out, laughing and Hermione looked over and scowled at them.

"Bigger?" Harry asked, still confused.

"I think she means you went and got buff, mate." Fred said with a smirk, making Hermione blush even deeper.

"He was already kind of buff back at the second task with the swimming, though. Remember?" George said in a serious tone as if he were pointing out something very important to his brother. "All the girls were going on about Harry's_ impressive build_, even then,"

"Right on, brother dear. That they did."

"Yeah, but he's even um... _bigger_ now then he was then," Ginny said, sniggering at Hermione's clumsy descriptor. "I mean, _look_ at those arms," Ginny added before performing a mock swoon and then bursting into giggles.

Harry blinked at the group before looking down at himself. "It's not that big a difference. I think the fact that I'm wearing fitted robes is the biggest difference, and the fact that it's sleeveless just makes things more obvious. School robes are so baggy you can't tell _what_ sort of build a person is under them."

"Of course, that's it." Hermione said, still averting her eyes a bit and looking terribly embarrassed.

Harry chuckled and rolled his eyes. "So _anyway_, what have you guys been up to?"

The group went on to talk about all that they had been up to since coming to Grimmauld Place. Their summer had basically consisted of _cleaning_... a _lot. As well as_ various attempts – mostly failures – to listen in on Order meetings.

The old house had been infested with doxies, and several boggarts when the Weasley's had arrived. One of the boggarts had turned into a giant acromantula when Ron came across it and he had been traumatized for several days afterwards. Although the others insisted Ron had been mostly faking it to get out of cleaning. Worst, of course, was that Ron, Ginny, and Hermione, couldn't use magic to do anything about them since they were all still under age.

The twins could, though, since they'd both turned seventeen the previous April, and they had been lording their magic over the younger counterparts' heads, gleefully.

The twins had also locked themselves away in their room, continuing their experiments and inventions. The rest of the group had spent a great deal of time sitting around being bored and playing various card games or chess, and being pestered by Hermione to get their summer homework done.

"You've got yours done, right Harry?" Hermione asked with a pointed look.

Harry just chuckled. "Yes, Hermione. I got it done ages ago."

"Well good," she said with a curt nod. "Oh! I forgot to ask! Did you get your results from the placement tests you took?"

"I did! I scored high enough to get into the second section of both Arithmancy and Runes, so I'll be in with the 4th years, instead of stuck with a bunch of 3rd years."

"Oh!" Ginny squealed. "That means you'll be in my class!"

Harry paused and looked at her. "I didn't know you were taking Runes or Arithmancy. Which are you taking?" Harry asked.

"Both. I considered trying to take Care too, but I didn't want to be so overloaded. Charlie was bummed that I wasn't going to take his favorite subject, but I for one, have no intention of ever running off to some Romanian dragon preserve, so I don't consider it much of a loss."

"Well it's nice to know I'll have a friendly face in those classes. I'm sure there will be quite a few who find me being there a bit odd," Harry said with a grin.

"I still can't believe your switching into those classes," Ron said with an exasperated sigh. Then he blinked and sat up straight as if he had just realized something. "You're still taking Care though, right?"

"No, sorry mate. I dropped it. I just didn't think I could deal with that many things all at once. With Quidditch, and being a Prefect, and all the other things I'll probably get dragged into this year, I didn't want to deal with three electives at the same time."

Ron groaned and sunk back into his chair, pouting.

"WAIT! Prefect? Harry, did you make prefect?" Hermione gasped.

Harry blinked in surprise. "Didn't I mention that?"

"No! You didn't! Oh my god, Harry! That's fantastic! Congratulations!" Hermione said, beaming at him, and then added, "I'm the other Gryffindor prefect this year."

A quick glance at Ron showed anything but 'beaming pride' from the redhead. He was openly scowling now, and had his arms crossed over his chest, indignantly.

"Congrats, mate," the twins said at the same time. "Just make sure you don't go –", "turning into a great ponce –", "like our dear brother Percy did." They continued, alternating back and forth.

Harry chuckled. "I don't think you've got much to worry about there." He turned back to Hermione. "And congrats to you. If anyone deserves it, it's you."

Hermione smiled widely, clearly happy with her achievement.

"I wonder who will be the new prefects for the other houses," Ginny wondered aloud.

"I know Malfoy made prefect for Slytherin. I think Pansy Parkinson is the other one." Harry said and the group looked at him with mild surprise.

"How do you know that?" Ginny asked, at the same time that Ron burst out with "_MALFOY!_ How can _he_ be a bloody prefect?"

"McGonagall mentioned it when I was at Hogwarts a little over a week ago for my placement tests," Harry easily lied, answering Ginny's question first. "And as for how Malfoy got it... well, despite being a giant prat, he _is_ top of his class out of the Slytherins. He gets even higher marks than Hermione does in Potions and Defense."

"The only reason he gets higher marks than 'Mione in Potions is 'cause Snape's a biased bastard," Ron grumbled, still looking obviously upset.

Hermione looked torn between reprimanding Ron for his disrespect of a Professor, and looking touched that he was sort of defending her. "That may be a bit true, Ron, but Malfoy is quite good at Potions."

"Snape is his Godfather, you know," Harry said, making Ron's eyes snap up to his with a look of righteous fury, but Harry continued on, "so I imagine that he probably gave Malfoy lessons during the summers, growing up. When you've got extra one-on-one lessons with a potions master, it's bound to help."

"He's just a dirty cheat," Ron grumbled. "S'not right for a git like him to be made prefect. He's not going to enforce the rules, he's just going to take advantage of them."

"Prefects are selected by their head of house." Harry pointed out.

"Just more of Snape playing favorites," Ginny said, rolling her eyes.

"Yup." Harry agreed with a dismissive shrug. "But the fact that it's the Head of House who selects the prefects worked out for me, I suppose. McGonagall wanted me as prefect, and even though Dumbledore tried to put a stop to it, she was still able to get her way. It was her decision in the end, not his."

"Why would Dumbledore try to stop you being a prefect?" Hermione asked, looking shocked.

Harry snorted. "He doesn't want me having any special privileges, or extra power, unless _he_ gives them to me. If everything 'good' I get comes from _him_, it's supposed to make me indebted to him. Just like me getting to leave Privet Drive was supposed to only come at his hands so that he could 'save me'. Thing is it isn't working anymore. Plus I think he wanted to refuse me the Prefect position like a 'punishment' thing for actually having the balls to stand up for my rights and go where I wanted this summer."

The gathered group shared looks at that, unsure how to take it, or what exactly to make of Harry's statement.

"Sooo... Harry, how was your summer?" Ginny asked, trying to break the awkward moment.

Harry grinned widely. "It was absolutely brilliant."

"Speaking of _your summer –"_ Hermione began, suddenly taking on a reprimanding tone. "Harry James Potter, you _lied_ to me!"

Harry blinked. "Lied?"

"Yes! You said that you didn't want to tell anyone about your boyfriend because his family might be upset by finding out he was gay and that he was dating the Boy-Who-Lived! But in one of your letters you said his parents _died_ when he was younger, he was raised by his godmother, and she _died_ last summer!"

"Oh... right. _That._" Harry said, suddenly taking on a sheepish grin. "I did lie about that. Erm... sorry?"

"Sorry? Don't _'sorry'_ me, Harry Potter! Why did you lie about that?"

"It was easier than telling you the truth?" Harry answered sheepishly with an innocent voice.

"_HARRY_!" Hermione half yelled and half whined.

"Well what _is_ the truth, then?" Ginny asked.

Harry paused for a minute, looking at the five sets of expectant eyes all trained on him, waiting for some sort of explanation. He had anticipated this and had, in fact, planned for it, so he wasn't wholly unprepared, yet he was still unsure exactly how they would take the answer he was going to give them.

"The truth is... the truth is that I don't trust Dumbledore one stinking bit." Harry finally said with a hard sense of finality.

Five sets of eyes widened almost comically. Hermione looked horrified. Ron just looked confused. The twins... Harry wasn't sure what to make of their expressions. They were probably the most accomplished of the bunch of creating a blank mask. Ginny's brow was furrowed and she seemed stunned and bewildered.

"Dumbledore?" Hermione finally said with mild incredulity. "What... what do you mean? And what does that have to do with you lying to us?"

"Dumbledore is a highly skilled Legilimense and I know from experience that he has frequently practices it on _me_, and most likely, the whole student population. And I'm not just talking about intruding upon the secret thoughts of delinquents when serious crimes are committed, or slipping into _my_ mind to see if I'm getting into anything dangerous – I'm talking about the sort of Legilimency where he leaves hidden subconscious suggestions behind to try and lead you in the direction he wants you to. Where he literally manipulates your very _thoughts_ with the subtlety that your average witch or wizard would never even realize anything had been done at all. He's been doing it to me since I first set foot in Hogwarts, and it wasn't until I discovered Legilimency and Occlumency, discovered I was an instinctive natural at Legilimency, and then started teaching myself Occlumency, that I was finally able to recognize what he had been doing to me."

The twin's eyes were wide with dawning horror and a bit of realization. Ron and Ginny both looked to be in shock. Hermione's face was a mask of pure denial.

"That's absurd!" she finally exclaimed. "Harry, how can you even accuse him of something like that?"

"You remember that day up in his office just last spring after you went to McGonagall and we ended up in Dumbledore's office to discuss my going back to Privet Drive?"

Hermione's jaw floundered for a moment but she hesitantly nodded her head.

"He tried it there. He tried reading my mind to see what the heck I had been up to, and find out what I'd told you, but he also tried to implant a suggestion. Did you notice how I kept my head down the whole time? How I wouldn't make eye contact with him?

"Yes..." Hermione said hesitantly.

"Without direct eye contact, the Legilimense can't implant subconscious suggestions, so as long as I wouldn't make eye contact, there was no way he could force any ideas into my head. But, when he saw that I was refusing to look him in the eye, he cast a silent compulsion charm at me to force me to look him in the eyes. I fought it off because I knew it was coming and recognized it for what it was. Also, fortunately he couldn't use a really strong compulsion with McGonagall standing right there."

Harry paused and Hermione's face was a mask of horror and shock. It was as if Harry had just pulled a carpet out from under her feet. Or crushed the foundation of all her faith in the authority figures of the school... which he kind of had. Harry fought off the urge to grin.

Ginny swallowed thickly and then spoke. "So... so what does that have to do with you lying, exactly?"

"I can only guess that Dumbledore did not manage to read from Hermione or Ron's minds that I had made plans to _not_ go to the Dursley's because he seemed legitimately surprised when I turned up missing, but I didn't _know_ that for sure back when we were still at school. For all I knew, he could have been regularly looking into your minds and since none of you know Occlumency, there wouldn't be anything stopping him. I _wanted_ to trust you guys," he said, focusing on Ron and Hermione, "with _something_ at least, but once I'd let slip that I was planning to go somewhere _else_ for the summer, I knew I'd taken a huge risk. One deep Legilimency sweep from Dumbledore and he could find out my intentions. So once I'd let that detail slip, I knew I needed to take extra security steps. I _couldn't risk_ Dumbledore finding out _where_ I was going.

"At the time, Nick had only just discovered his family's ancestral home back in January when the Goblins informed him of his full family inheritance. Before that, he had no idea he even owned any property. He wasn't ready to leave Hogsmeade at the time since he was still studying for his NEWTs, and the house really needed fixing up because it had sat empty for like, twenty years. He used some of his inheritance to buy the contracts of a couple abandoned house elves and got them started on fixing the place up. He also hired the Goblins to start fixing up the old wards. The house was already unplottable and already had a bunch of ancient wards on it, but after he got the idea in his head to invite me to stay, he decided that the needed to add in more protections.

"Anyway, long story short, it wasn't until just before the end of term that the wards were finished, so if Dumbledore had found out that it was _Nicodemus Tomaras _that I was dating_, _before that, he could have used his influence to do some digging and maybe find out where the house was. One of the wards that were put up was a ward that destroyed or obscured any existing copies of the house's address that existed anywhere in writing. It's one of the reasons that Dumbledore hasn't been able to find the place now, even after the article I did back in July where I let Nick's name get out into the public. The house _cannot be found _now. But back when we were still at Hogwarts in the spring, that wasn't true yet. I didn't know if Dumbledore was going to read your minds, so I had to put out some misleading information, just in case he did."

The group still appeared stunned into silence, and the atmosphere remained thick and strained for several awkward minutes.

"I... I just can't understand this..." Hermione finally said with a frustrated but weak voice. "I mean... how did you develop such mistrust for the Headmaster? I can't believe that he would ever do anything to put you in harm's way... not _intentionally_. The Legilimency thing... I just... I mean, I don't know _what_ to think of that. It's just... how did all this mistrust begin? I mean... was it this _Nick_ guy?"

"No. It wasn't Nick. I started figuring all of this stuff out long before I became close with Nick. Before I even _met_ him. You've got to understand something, Hermione... Dumbledore has been messing with my head for _years_. I can't prove it. But, that's the beauty of Legilimency. If you're good enough at it there's no way to get caught."

"I tried to do some research on Legilimency this summer, but it's near impossible to find any books on it," Hermione said with a frustrated growl.

"It's a regulated magic by the Ministry because of... well, what it is. I mean, it _is_ mind reading. It's an extreme intrusion of personal privacy, and it's very difficult to defend against."

"Yes, but what I did find said nothing about a person being able to implant subliminal thoughts." Hermione pointed out.

"I –" Harry began but paused and looked pensive for a moment. "Would you be willing to undergo an experiment so I can prove to you this is true?"

Hermione blinked and looked hesitant for a split second before nodding her head. "Alright, what do you want to do?"

"I mentioned that I discovered that I'm an instinctive natural at it."

"Yes, you said that – what does that even mean? And how did you 'discover' that you could do it?"

"What it means is that I can just _do_ it, even though I'd never been taught it, and hadn't even ever read about it. I didn't even know that there was a name for what I was doing until second term. As for how I discovered it, well... it was kind of a fluke. You remember back when Rita Skeeter wrote that article outing me, how I told you that if Fleur had been the one who let it slip, I'd be able to find out? And then later I was positive that it wasn't her?"

"Yes..."

"I read her mind. But, that wasn't the first time I'd done it. There was some point where I was looking into someone's eyes and I thought they were lying to me. I wished I could just read their thoughts and know for sure, and the next thing I know, it's like part of my consciousness slipped inside their mind and I could see everything. It's actually really overwhelming. Anyway, I only did it a few times to test out what I could and couldn't do, but after a bit I realized it was seriously intrusive and didn't do it anymore after that. However, experimenting with it made me realize that if others could do it too, there were some seriously dangerous implications in the whole thing. Anyway, I'm going to do a demonstration to show you want I'm talking about. Ready?"

Hermione took in a deep breath and gave a determined nod.

"Okay, do you have a piece of parchment?"

Harry proceeded to take a piece of parchment and a borrowed quill and wrote down a quick note while hiding it form Hermione. He handed it to Ginny, but told her not to look at it, and to keep it hidden.

Next, he sat Hermione down directly opposite him and looked directly into her eyes.

"I'm going to go into your head and implant a subliminal message," Harry explained and Hermione's expression became worried. "Nothing big, just something small, and if you do it, and it matches what I've written on the paper I gave to Ginny, then that will prove to you that this is possible, yes?"

"Alright..." Hermione said, hesitantly.

They locked eyes and Harry wandlessly, and silently slipped into her mind. Her emotions were a storm and her thoughts were filled with doubts and second-guessing. In some part of her mind, she had been recently going over every memory she could dig up of interacting directly with Dumbledore, questioning and second-guessing every little thing. Harry found himself greatly pleased by this, but pushed it aside and focused on her conscious mind and her awareness of her surroundings. He latched onto the image and thought of Ginny sitting not-too-far away and implanted a thought. A moment later, he slipped out and she blinked at him expectantly.

"Well?" she asked, clearly expecting something to happen.

"I already did it." Harry said with a slightly smug smile.

"You did?" she exclaimed. "But I didn't feel anything!"

"Nope. And you wouldn't feel anything from Dumbledore doing it either. Now take a look around the room."

Hermione's brow furrowed in confusion, but she did. As her eyes landed on Ginny, she tilted her head to the side, looking thoughtful.

"You know, Ginny. I think you might look good with short hair. Have you ever considered cutting it?" Hermione said, seemingly out of the blue. The gathered group looked confused.

Harry grinned and nodded at Ginny. "Look at the paper."

Ginny blinked, unfolded the paper Harry had handed her and her eyes instantly went wide. She looked back at Hermione who was now looking even more confused.

"It says 'I'm going to make Hermione think you could use a haircut'." Ginny said with obvious shock.

Hermione's jaw dropped and she let out a small gasp.

Her eyes went back to Harry with dawning horror. "I didn't notice _anything._" she exclaimed. "I... I mean, I look at Ginny and I _really think that_... but... but, wait... I've never thought that before! I mean... honestly, I _don't_ believe that. I think you're hair's beautiful, Ginny. Don't get it cut," Hermione suddenly said, refocusing on Ginny, who gave a slightly sheepish grin and ducked her head a bit.

"But for that moment, you _really_ believed that was how you thought, right?" Harry prodded. "And if you hadn't realized that it was all a trick, you would have gone on thinking that too."

"Oh my god..." Hermione said in a horrified whisper.

"He's been doing that to me since I first got to Hogwarts," Harry said in a suddenly cold, hard, voice. "I can look back and pinpoint several instances where I'm _sure_ he messed with my head. Made me think things I didn't really think. Made me _do_ things I didn't really want to do, or wouldn't have normally done."

"But _why?_" Hermione exclaimed with a desperate voice.

"I don't know, Hermione. And that scares me. What does he want with me? Why is he doing this to me? I know it has to have something to do with Voldemort. But why Dumbledore needs _me_ as a part of his plans... I just don't know. But I'm not going to be his ignorant pawn anymore. I'm not going to let him just use me and trick me."

"But... but this is _Dumbledore_ we're talking about!" Ron finally exclaimed, looking pale and in obvious denial. "He's the Lightest wizard alive! He's, he's... he's _Dumbledore!_ He defeated the Dark Lord Grindlewald!"

"Grindlewald wasn't a real Dark Lord though. He was just a really ambitious Dark wizard," Harry interjected, and Ron just looked confused.

"What? What does that have to do... never mind. I just... Harry, you make it sound like you're against Dumbledore now! I just..."

"Ron," Harry interjected with a soft reassuring voice. "There seems to be this automatic expectation that since I'm the bloody boy-who-wouldn't-die, that I _have_ to follow Dumbledore. That I have to swear my allegiance and loyalty to him. But I don't have to do anything. He's a man. A powerful wizard, yes, but he's still just a man. He's the headmaster of my school, and because of that, he has authority over me, but I'm not going to be at Hogwarts forever. After seventh year, I'll graduate and go off to do whatever I end up doing, and as far as I'm concerned, that thing doesn't have to have anything to do with Albus bloody Dumbledore. I know that you all are really getting interested in this whole Order of the Phoenix thing, and I bet even the members of it have some sort of expectation that I'll join it after I'm seventeen, because both my parents were members, but I won't. I have no intention, or desire, to ever join Dumbledore's little secret vigilante group. The man comes off as a kind, brilliant, and somewhat senile, old grandfather, but I'm convinced it's just a mask. It's a disguise to hide the manipulative master beneath the surface.

"It's just like Quirrell back in our first year –" Harry paused hold up his hand to halt the obvious outburst that was clearly on the tip of Ron's tongue. "Quirrell came off as an incompetent, stuttering fool. But it was all an act. The purpose of that was to get people to lower their guard. To lower their expectations and to not consider him a threat so no one would suspect that he was really after the Philosopher's Stone. That's what Dumbledore does. He acts like a crazy old man to get people to lower their guards. To make it so no one will suspect him. But do you really think that a mostly-senile, dottering, crazy old man could really hold as much power as he has, for as long as he's held it? Not just over Hogwarts, but in the ICW, and the Wizengamot. And all the influence he has over at the Ministry."

Harry paused again, allowing his statements to sink in to his fellow Gryffindors' minds. He knew that this was one of the hardest ideas for him to drive through their thick skulls since loyalty to Dumbledore had basically been drilled into the Weasley offspring their entire lives, and Hermione had an instinctive submission and reverence for authority figures, especially really intelligent and powerful ones.

However, this was also an incredibly important step. If he could get them to second-guess Dumbledore and start to question the man and his motives, it would really help with pushing them _further_.

"But I just don't understand why Dumbledore would _do _that to you," Hermione said weakly with an utterly defeated air around her.

Harry shrugged. "I'm sure that he thinks he's justified. That it's all for the greater good or something. He thinks he needs me, and doesn't trust me to follow his grand plan the honest way. Maybe he thinks that whatever his end goal is, is just too important to risk some stupid teenager exhibiting stupidity, or _free will_ and screwing it all up. But at this point, even if I knew what he was aiming for, understood his motives, and found myself _agreeing _with his goals, I _still _wouldn't work with him. Maybe I'll strive for those goals on my own, but I won't be working with him. Not after what he's done to me. Not after he's _used_ me the way he has."

The group sat in stunned silence for a long uncomfortable minute.

"Harry?" Ginny's voice breaks through the thickness.

"Yes?"

"What things _exactly_ do you think he put into your head? What things do you think he changed or made you do?"

"I only have theories, you know. I obviously can't prove anything, and even what I do think I know, is just speculation. I can only look back in my memories and pick out the things that always seemed strange. Instances where I just suddenly seemed to realize something, or I suddenly got the impulse to do something insanely reckless... I don't know... but I think he was also guiding us slowly. There's also all those times where my... well, my _saving people thing_ kicked in to an irrational extent. I _never_ used to stick my neck out for people the way I have in the last few years. I always kept my head down and looked after my own hide. It was necessary to survive in the environment I grew up in. No one was going to look after me so I had to look out for myself. Admittedly, I never had anyone I cared about enough to feel it was warranted to risk my own neck for someone else, but still... Hermione, can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah?" she replied.

"Back in second year when you decided to brew Polyjuice Potion and we needed a place to brew, how did you come to the conclusion to use Myrtle's bathroom?" Harry asked.

"Oh... um... well I... I was just trying to think of somewhere that no one ever went into. I was sitting in the great hall at breakfast one day and... and... oh Harry..."

"What?"

"I remember feeling the oddest urge to look up at the head table and Dumbledore was smiling right at me. I remember because I rarely made direct eye contact with the Headmaster. Usually when I looked up at the head table he would be busy talking with one of the other professors or something. But he was looking_ right at me._ It was just after leaving the great hall that I suddenly knew for sure the _perfect place._ Harry, what do you think it means?"

"Dumbledore already knew that Myrtle's bathroom was the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets." Harry said with absolute conviction.

Hermione gasped, Ginny paled, and Ron's face suddenly looked furious. So did the Twins, for that matter.

"Harry, how can you say that?" Hermione asked.

"He sent Fawkes down there, after me, when I went in to get Ginny. My _loyalty_ didn't call Fawkes to me, Dumbledore _sent him_. Sent him down the tunnel that I'd left open when Ron, Lockhart, and I went down it. For that, he had to already know where the entrance was, he just couldn't open it himself – for that he needed someone who spoke parseltongue. I'm positive of that. Even back, fifty years ago, Dumbledore was sure that Tom Riddle was the one who opened the chamber, and Dumbledore _knew_ that the girl that died from it was Myrtle and that she died in_ that bathroom_. Fifty years is plenty of time to figure it out. He subliminally implanted the idea for us to brew our potion in that bathroom so that we would have extended exposure to it. It would be too strange and inexplicable for me to suddenly just _know_ where the entrance was if I'd never even been in that bathroom, so the Polyjuice brewing was the perfect excuse for me to get familiar with that room."

"But Dumbledore was gone from Hogwarts when you figured out where the entrance to the Chamber was, so he couldn't have put that into your head that day," Ron pointed out. "He'd been kicked out by Malfoy and the Governors before then."

"True," Harry said, nodding his head, "But I think he may have implanted the knowledge before he left, but maybe he made it so deep in my subconscious that it would take certain events for it to really surface. Like, maybe I had to _know_ that someone was down there before the knowledge of where the entrance was would come to the surface. I don't really know, I mean, he's been doing advanced Legilimency a lot longer than I have, so he could have figured out how to do all sorts of tricks like that."

"But why would he do all that?" Ginny asked, looking slightly shaken.

"I don't know, Gin. I really _really_ don't know. I mean, if I'm right, he put the whole school at risk for this. If he knew where the entrance was, once he learned that I was a parselmouth he should have just taken me there so we could go down and he and the teachers could take out the basilisk."

"But that just shows that you've got to be wrong!" Ron said suddenly. "Dumbledore wouldn't put the whole school at risk like that!"

"Dumbledore may have known where the entrance to the Chamber was, and probably even that the monster was a basilisk, but he probably didn't know how it was being opened. What he _did_ know was that Voldemort was probably involved in some way. He knew that Tom Riddle was the one who opened the Chamber fifty years ago, even if no one else realized it, and the message written on the wall said 'enemies of the heir, beware', which is apparently the same thing that happened 50 years ago when it was Voldemort as a teen."

Harry noticed Ginny cringe out of the corner of his eye and sent her an apologetic and encouraging smile.

"So even though he knew where the entrance was, and could have stopped the attacks on the students, if he had done that he may not have been able to find how Voldemort was involved or actually catch him. He chose to wait so that he could try and discover that... or for _me_ to figure it out. Which I guess is what he actually did. For some reason, he has apparently been convinced that it had to be _me_ to do it... but why, I have no idea.

"The way I look at it, the only way to discover the person behind the attacks was for me to enter the Chamber when it was known for sure that the perpetrator was already down there. That's why I think that was probably the trigger for the information implanted in my mind. If I was sure that someone was down there, then I would figure out where the entrance was and I could go catch them in the act.

"Theoretically, if Dumbledore or the teachers had gone down there any sooner, we may have never discovered that it was Ginny and that she was being possessed by that diary... I don't know. It's so convoluted and messed up. Just the same, it seems like a huge risk. Especially if he knew it was a basilisk. I mean, it was a total fluke that no one actually got killed. It was pure luck that everyone who ran into it had some sort of object in the way that made it so they only got... petrified... " Harry trailed off, appearing to have made a sudden realization.

"Dumbledore knew... I wonder if he was somehow... but how? I mean, it happened far too many times to have been a coincidence... but if he had been there to prevent the deaths, why still allow anyone to get petrified at all? Surely he wouldn't do something like that just to guarantee that I would... Surely not..."

"Harry, are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" Hermione said in a hoarse whisper.

Harry shook his head. "I don't know what I'm suggesting, Hermione. I honestly don't know what to think anymore. Half the time I wonder if I'm just being excessively paranoid, or if the world really is this utterly insane..." Harry sighed and ran his hand through his hair, roughly, pulling at it a bit.

"I get that Dumbledore has got some 'bigger-picture' plan and he's working towards some huge hidden agenda, and he _probably_ thinks that what he's doing is right and that the end result is worth the small sacrifices along the way. I don't think Dumbledore is doing this out of spite or to make my life a living hell, but I still don't trust him one damn bit." Harry finally concluded.

The thick heavy atmosphere returned and the whole group of them looked both glum and stunned. Each one's face gave Harry the distinct impression that they had a _lot_ of thinking to do. Finally, Ron spoke up.

"Harry... are you suggesting that if Dumbledore hadn't planted some... I don't know, some idea in your head about going down to the Chamber, that you wouldn't have gone down there to save Ginny?"

Harry sighed and took on an air of defeat. "That's just it, Ron. _I don't know._ I don't know if I would have gone down there or not. But I would like to have been given that choice of my own total free will and right now, I'm not convinced that I did. I don't know if I saved Ginny because it was something that I would really have done, or if it was just because Dumbledore had been implanting hypnotic suggestions into my head. I know that you can't implant subliminal thoughts into a person's head with Legilimency that are seriously counter to their own thoughts and beliefs, so he couldn't have made me do something that I would never ever do, but he could still nudge me towards choices I wouldn't have naturally made on my own. Thing is I don't know which nudges he gave me and which were really _my choices._ I _hate_ not knowing. I _hate_ not knowing what other stuff he's done to me. It's got me questioning everything I know about myself and my choices over the last few years. I know I'm protected from it now that I'm studying Occlumency, so he can't mess with me anymore, but what about you guys? He can still mess with your heads. What if he's been doing this to you guys too?"

Suddenly the whole group of them paled. Ginny and Hermione both looked like they were about to be sick.

"If you're right about the Polyjuice and Myrtle's bathroom, then he's already done at least one thing to me..." Hermione whispered in horror.

Ron shot to his feet and began to pace furiously while shaking his head and mumbling under his breath. Things like _'This isn't possible!', 'He's the good guy!', _and_ 'Light Wizards don't do things like this!' _were passing between his lips. Ginny trailed his pacing with her eyes, looking more and more upset by the second.

"Worst of all..." Harry began, finally drawing Ron's attention away from his own frantic muttering, "I feel like it's partially _my fault_ if he has been messing with your guys' heads."

"Harry, that's absurd!" Ginny exclaimed.

"You guys are _my friends_, and that's the _only reason_ that Dumbledore would have any valid reason to mess with you. It's obvious that I'm the center of whatever crazy scheme he's got brewing. It's all about the bloody Boy-Who-Lived. He wants to control me so he controls everything around me, which includes you."

"Harry, do you have any books on Occlumency?" Hermione asked suddenly with a determined voice. "Like I said, I had a hard time finding any books on the mind arts, and those that I did find only summarized it. None of them actually taught any of it."

"I've got a couple," Harry said, nodding his head. "One of them is Nick's, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind me lending it to you."

"Thank you, Harry," Hermione said with a grateful, but weak smile.

"Oh Merlin..." Ron whispered suddenly, looking extraordinarily pale. "I... I think Dumbledore might have done something to my head too..."

"What, Ron?" Harry asked looking concerned and suppressing the elated glee at how well this was progressing.

"He... he visited us at the Burrow the summer before I started at Hogwarts. You remember that?" he asked, suddenly turning to the Twins and Ginny who all nodded their heads slowly in dawning horror. "He... he really only spoke to me for a moment. Mum and dad were having tea with him, which was really odd – I mean, he'd never come over before... and they called me downstairs and into the kitchen and he asked me if I was looking forward to starting at Hogwarts, and I said yes. I was really excited to meet him, but that was it. It was nothing special. But... but he looked me in the eye and held it for longer than seemed normal. I remember thinking it was a bit odd, but ignoring it because I was just so excited to be meeting him in person."

"I remember thinking it was really odd, too. They didn't call any of the rest of us down to meet him. Just you. What do you think he did?" Ginny asked.

Harry took on a pensive look for a moment as all eyes trained on him. "I bet he set the idea in your head to befriend me on the train," Harry said with a slow nod.

"But why would he want _Ron, _specifically, to befriend you?" Hermione asked.

"Because the Weasley's are loyal to him, and a trusted Light family. He wanted me to be friends with people he had the firm belief he had control over."

Ginny sucked in a sharp breath and the twins looked murderous again. Ron looked sick.

"He also probably knew from Hagrid, and from the squib he had spying on me from down the street at Privet Drive that I didn't have a single friend before Hogwarts. He probably realized that any friend I made, I'd be terribly loyal to. There's never been a single Weasley placed in any house but Gryffindor, but Potter's aren't so predictable. My dad, James Potter, and granddad, Charlus Potter were both Gryffindors, but my great-granddad, Harrison Potter was a _Slytherin, _and his brother Daniel was a Ravenclaw. Harrison Potter arranged the marriage between Charlus Potter and Dorea Black – who was a Slytherin – because he was good friend with Dorea's father Cygnus. I'm sure Dumbledore was really worried that I might get sorted into Slytherin, and I'm sure the Boy-Who-Lived being a Slytherin would have destroyed his plans. Both Hagrid _and_ you specifically told me stories about how horrible and evil Slytherins are, and how great and amazing Gryffindors are. I bet that was Dumbledore's doing."

Ron's eyes were as big as saucers at this point. "Your great-grandfather was a Slytherin? And your grandmum was a _Black_!"

Harry gave Ron a flat, blank stare for a long minute before the ginger seemed to realize how stupid and inappropriate his outburst was given the situation and ducked his head sheepishly.

Another long and heavy silence fell upon the group and finally Harry let out a long loud sigh. "I think we need to move on to another subject for a while. I've had months and months to come to terms with, and slowly unravel all of this and it's still hard for me to grasp it all, sometimes. Having it all unloaded on your heads all at once has got to be murder. Look... these are the conclusions that _I_ came to, but I won't expect you all to follow me on this. You need to come to your own conclusions and I think that it would be beneficial if you all had some time to think on this before we talk about it anymore."

The group reluctantly nodded their heads, but awkward silence mostly prevailed. Finally, Ginny asked Harry what sorts of things he did to keep busy all summer, and he gave her a convincing, grateful smile to show his appreciation for her changing the subject. He told them stories of him and Nick spending the first few weeks cleaning and fixing up Nick's ancestral manor. Stories of the pair of them spending relaxing days reading, studying, practicing dueling, talking about the world, their beliefs, and politics.

Hermione seemed rather surprised that Harry had suddenly developed opinions on politics and Harry admitted that Nick had played a large role in his growing realization that politics are far more important that he had ever been willing to accept before. This also brought forth a discussion on the interview he had done about a month earlier in the Prophet and the ideas he had stated then in relationship to magical and muggleborn babies, raised by muggles.

He and Hermione then found themselves in a deep-heated discussion, as they debated their varying ideals on the subject, and in the end, Harry actually felt rather accomplished since he knew he had got her thinking about things that she hadn't really thought about before. He could also see signs of Viktor's ideals and words affecting her opinions, which pleased him.

Ginny seemed to openly agree with Harry's ideas on a magical childcare system needing to be established, and the idea of regularly checking up on any magical child being raised in a muggle home, as well as the magical community's _responsibility_ to take any child being mistreated away and place them in a magical home or in some sort of magical foster system. Ron admitted that he'd never even thought about any of it before, but seemed more than willing to say it sounded like a good idea to him. Hermione didn't seem to like the idea of any government having the power to forcefully take children from their families, but admitted that if the family was abusing the child, it should be taken away.

– –

AN: I had two different people ask for refreshers/reminders as to what it was that Sirius had given Harry for his birthday that 'stayed blue'. Sirius sent Harry a Probitas Probe (Probitas is Latin for truth or something, if I recall – I'd have to re-look it up, but it seemed an appropriate name – lol) It was a small rod about the size of a ball-point pen with a small sphere on the tip that would glow once activated. You then had to point it at someone while they were speaking to you. If they were being generally dishonest, it would turn red. If they were being honest, it stayed blue.

Basically, Sirius expected it to turn red if Harry used it on Voldemort since Voldemort was undoubtedly just lying and manipulating Harry – not actually being honest with him. Thus, Sirius' surprise that it had stayed blue.


	14. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary: Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta Pass by tannne

AN: Another long chapter (23 pages long). I'll try to get the 3rd part of Grimmauld Place up later tonight.

– –

Chapter 13

Around 2pm, Molly Weasley popped in, informing the group that she had a late lunch ready and they all made their way down the stairs and into the kitchen where a more humble table than the extravagant one Harry had seen in the dining room, was set up and the group had their meal there.

The mood was still fairly subdued and Ron still seemed to be brooding from their earlier earth-shattering discussion on Dumbledore. Mrs. Weasley remarked on it, but only got a grunt in return. Seeing no signs of getting an answer to her inquiries, she simply sighed and shrugged, refocusing on the meal. Sirius and Remus joined them for the meal, but didn't say much. Interactions with Sirius seem obviously strained between he and Mrs. Weasley, but their interactions were generally genial.

The meal ended, Remus and Sirius quickly disappeared back upstairs, and the young Gryffindors returned to the drawing room on the second floor. The Weasley's all almost instantly took seats around the front of the room but Harry slowly walked around the space examining it and taking it all in. The whole room was filled with delicious dark taint but there was a glass case along the far back wall that seemed especially potent. He opened it up and found that it was empty and frowned in disappointment.

"What was in here?" he asked as Hermione came to stand behind him.

"Oh, it was quite an assortment of items. Mrs. Weasley had us just throw it all out. We couldn't identify much of any of it, but she was sure it was all Dark or cursed in some way."

"And she just tosses it all out, just because she thinks the stuff _could be Dark_?" Harry asked with incredulity and annoyance clear in his voice. "That stuff could have been valuable or rare. They could have had historical value! Or been powerful, rare, magical artifacts!"

"Well... _yes_, but they were all _Dark_..." Hermione said, hesitantly, giving Harry a cautious look before glancing back at the other Weasley's on the opposite side of the room.

"And _all things Dark_ should be eradicated _just because_ they're Dark," Harry said with a sarcastic sneer. His voice was low and directed right at Hermione so the others wouldn't hear. Hermione glanced back at the others once more, all still seated towards the opposite side of the room, and saw that none of them were paying them any attention.

She turned back to Harry. "I... _may_ have saved some of it," she whispered quietly.

Harry looked at her with legitimate surprise. "You did?" he asked.

Hermione pulled her lower lip between her teeth and gave another cautious glance back at the Weasleys. "I... well, I agree that some of those things looked valuable... not just in a monetary way, of course, but in a _historical_ _value_ way. The Blacks are one of the oldest magical lines still alive in Britain and there are loads of things in this house that... _while Dark_, still have a valid historical value. And some of the magical artifacts looked really fascinating. Also..." she hesitated again before sighing and shaking her head. "The house elf here...Kreacher, he's such a sad sight. I mean, he's gone terribly mad over the years, being in this nasty old house all alone, but it's obvious that he loved his family, even if they were all Dark wizards. He was _so upset_ that we were throwing out all of these Black Family treasures, so I helped him pick out certain objects and we've hidden them in Sirius' brother's room."

"Regulus's room?"

"Right."

Harry nodded his head thoughtfully, making note to go check out Regulus's room as soon as he was able to ditch the ginger-brigade.

He focused back on Hermione and she was still gnawing away at her bottom lip nervously and looked as if she were contemplating something a bit unsettling.

"Is there anything wrong, Hermione?" Harry asks in a gentle voice.

"I... um... Harry, what do you think... what's your opinion on er... _Dark_ magic?" she asked hesitantly, while occasionally glancing back towards the Weasley's nervously.

Deep inside, Harry was grinning like a mad man. Outwardly, he took on a look of mild surprise.

Hermione quickly began to backtrack, obviously reading his surprised look in a negative way. "Not the whole _Unforgivables_ type of _Dark_ magic, of course, but um... just, well the traditions and the er... the beliefs that old Dark Families hold. I mean, it's not all about hating muggles, in fact many of them don't! It's really only the extremists that promote muggle extermination and they've given the rest of the old Dark families a bad name – did you realize that? Most Dark families just follow an isolationist mentality. They don't want to kill all muggles, they just don't want to risk exposure. I really didn't realize all this and I feel so stupid for never having really investigated it before. I just took everything that people said at face value, and _I never do that_! I'm so angry at myself for that... I just took people like Malfoy as the example of what all old pure-blood Dark magic families were like and just assumed it meant they were all ignorant bigots who were all about supremacist dogma and muggle-hating, but, it's not all about Dark Lords and torture curses, or entrails-expelling curses. There's this rich cultural heritage that goes back thousands of years, and it's all so fascinating and they just want to protect their history and traditions and are afraid that the magical ministries are going to outlaw everything they hold dear just because they're afraid of all the extremists, and –"

"Hermione!" Harry said rather loudly while holding up his hands and finally getting her to stop, but also drawing a curious look from Ginny across the room. Harry leaned in closer and kept his voice lower. "Do you want to offer me a tour of the house? Sirius really only took me up to the 3rd floor and just described what was in the rest of the house. We could talk somewhere with fewer ears."

Hermione nodded slowly for a moment before her eyes lit up and she let out a small, excited squeak. "Have you seen the library yet?" she asked, enthusiastically. Harry found himself grinning in amusement. Leave it to Hermione to get excited about a library. Despite this, he actually found himself rather curious and honestly even _excited_ about the thought of exploring the library of an ancient Dark family. He wondered if Sirius would let him take some of the books with him? He wouldn't doubt that Tom would absolutely _love_ to go sifting through an old Dark wizarding family's library. He had once told Harry about his youth in Hogwarts when he was still a dirt-poor orphan and how he would win books off his rich dorm-mates with card games. They all had family libraries full of old books and had no appreciation for how valuable they were since they had always _just been there_.

"No, I haven't seen it yet. How about you take me up there?"

She nodded enthusiastically and led Harry out of the drawing room with a quick word to the others, telling them that she was taking Harry to see the library, which none of the Weasley's seemed at all keen to follow, so none offered.

They climbed the stairs to the third landing and Hermione led Harry directly to the door that Sirius had earlier pointed out led to the library. One step inside and Harry felt his head go a bit fuzzy. There was a ridiculous amount of Dark magic in the air and it was almost inebriating. Harry found himself with a hazy grin plastered across his face for a moment before he got himself under control.

The air was thick with the musty scent of old parchment and ink, and the deep, powerful, taint of Dark magic. There were definitely some nasty books within these walls. The library itself was surprisingly large and Harry realized that it had to have had some sort of space expansion charm because it looked too big to fit within the size of the house as he knew it.

He took several slow steps forward, walking right past Hermione and taking in the impressive space with wide, awed eyes. He walked down several of the rows of bookcases, lightly running his fingertips over the spines of the books, feeling the delicious tingle that would shoot through him with great intensity whenever he brushed against one of the especially _Dark_ books – the ones that were likely to curse you if you tried to open them with the wrong intentions. His eyes trailed over the titles aimlessly, and he found he recognized quite a few titles from Tom's library and from references in other books he'd read of Tom's. It was a remarkable library. He wished, desperately, that he could bring Tom here, and wondered if there was some way to maybe sneak 'Nick' in. Maybe at Yule? He certainly wasn't willing to spend his entire winter holiday in this house, but maybe he could visit for Christmas day and talk the Order into letting him bring 'Nick' with him. Would the Weasley's be spending the winter holidays here just like they'd spent the last month of summer?

"So... you don't exactly seem averse to it..." Hermione said, hesitantly, as she observed Harry's reverent gaze at the books – many of which were of a very questionable standing.

Harry turned to refocus on her, trying to recall exactly what she was talking about. _Oh, right..._

"Dark magic, you mean?" he asked.

She nodded her head. "I didn't think you'd like it... I mean, Dark-anything is always associated with V-Voldemort and the Death Eaters. I was worried that you'd be instantly biased against it just like –"

"Just like the Weasley's?" Harry finished and Hermione ducked her head and nodded sheepishly. "Well, I can definitely say that I'm more open-minded to it than Ron will ever be. I don't think that the twins would be so close-minded about it though. They may be safe to talk to. Have they been spending any time in here?"

"I don't know," Hermione replied blankly.

"I wouldn't be surprised if they were. They're working on inventions for a joke shop they hope to open after they graduate and I can imagine several tomes in this library would be valuable to them..." Harry's words trailed off as he looked around the comfortable Dark place with a small smile on his face.

Hermione looked around and shivered lightly, frowning at the books. "I guess they would. I haven't seen them here though."

"I imagine they're being discreet. I'm sure Molly would pitch a right fit if she found any of her children reading books from here." Harry said with a chuckle.

Hermione took on an exasperated look and nodded in agreement. "I'm sure you've got that right." She paused and after a moment's hesitation she spoke again, "So why _aren't _you more averse to all this Dark magic stuff? I really would have expected you to be strongly against it..."

Harry shrugged. "I suppose my investigations into Dark affinities and Dark magic really started after I started working on my parselmage abilities last fall. I kept insisting to people that being a parseltongue didn't make me a Dark wizard and getting all uppity and defensive about it but... well, eventually I had to step out of denial-land and admit and come to terms with the fact that parselmagic _is_ a form of Dark magic because it's a blood trait gained from being a descendant of Naga – a Dark creature race whose magic is inherently _Dark_. But just because it's Dark doesn't mean it's _bad._ Which really got me to open my eyes to the fact that Dark does not equal evil, just like Light doesn't equal good. I mean, look at bloody _Dumbledore_. He's the_ Light Lord_, but that certainly doesn't mean that he's the most morally superior man on the planet. Look at what he's done to me? Light and Dark are not the same as good and evil."

Hermione took in his words, nodding her head slowly before offering him a small, and slightly sad smile.

"Nothing is ever truly as simple as it seems when you're a child," Hermione said, sadly. "There's really no such thing as simple black and white."

Harry nodded in agreement and gave her a soft smile.

Harry and Hermione proceeded to talk for the next hour about their blossoming views on Dark magic; magical affinities in general, and the misconceptions propagated about Dark wizarding families and why that would be. Hermione couldn't understand how the old, powerful, Dark wizarding families could be suffering from prejudices when they were supposed to be so powerful, but Harry argued that their 'powerful standing' really was an old misconception; especially in Britain. He argued that the masses, which were mostly neutral in affinity, were the ones with the most power, but _they_ were controlled by their fears. Those who desired control and who managed to get themselves into powerful positions had latched onto that fear and expanded upon it; _using _it to grow their own selfish desire for political power.

While Voldemort had fought for power through mostly terrorist acts of revolution, striking out against the established powerbase, others had gained strong footholds of power by manipulating the public to willingly support being oppressed, through fear tactics.

Those in power needed someone to point the finger at. Someone to blame for all the people's woes, and the victim in this case were the Dark wizards the same way a lot of Dark wizards pointed the finger at muggles for all their problems.

Hermione had said that Viktor and his family had said much the same thing and that it really did make a lot sense, even if it was absolutely horrible.

They were just about to draw to a close when Ginny popped her head in, looking for them and talking them into coming back to the drawing room. The three went back down the stairs to find only Ron there. The twins had, apparently, run off to their room to do some more of their secret experiments, and Ron was getting moody and annoying to be around without someone else to act as a buffer (thus, Ginny seeking out Harry and Hermione to save her from her brother's moody wrath.)

The four played a couple games of exploding snap before Harry stood up from the couch, stretched his back and grumbled about needing to stretch his legs. He made another slow trek around the drawing room and came to a stop before the large family tapestry that hung on one wall.

Ginny and Hermione joined him, followed by a reluctant Ron.

"The Black Family tree?" Ginny asked, looking at him curiously.

"Harry, you said your grandmum was a Black?" Hermione asked.

"That's right," Harry said, pointing his hand up to the name 'Dorea Black (Potter); 1920-1977', connected to Charlus Potter, and a thin line to the word 'One Son'.

"Because she was a female Black and married into another family, her son's name isn't included on the tapestry," Harry explained to Hermione who was looking at the tapestry with a bit of confusion. "If you look there –" Harry said, pointing at the line from Cygnus Black and Druella (Rosier) that listed three daughters, Bellatrix, Narcissa, and a burned spot where the third name was blasted off – "You'll notice that it lists the women and their husbands' names, but doesn't list the name of their kids."

Hermione suddenly gasped. "Lucius Malfoy?"

Harry chuckled. "Oh yeah, didn't I mention? I discovered this summer that I'm related to bloody Malfoy." Harry groaned playfully. "Yeah, so Narcissa Black married Lucius Malfoy and had '_One Son'_. If you trail the tree back up, Narcissa's father is Cygus Black, whose father is Pollux Black, who's sister was Dorea Black, whose son was James Potter."

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed. "You're related to Malfoy!"

Harry laughed. "Yeah, he and I are cousins. But if you look at this thing you'll see that I'm related to a lot more than just him, although the others are more distant... heck, look here –" Harry walked over to one of the farther branches and pointed at the name 'Lucretia Black' who married Ignatius Prewett. "Prewett – isn't that your mum's maiden name?" Harry asked the two gingers. Ron's eyes went wide. "Merlin's Beard! Mum's aunt Lucretia was a Black?"

"Lucretia Black was Orion Black's sister, and Orion Black was Sirius's dad." Harry said making the two Gingers appear even more stunned.

"So does that make us cousins too?" Ron asked, looking at Harry with shock.

"Well, no... not really. I mean, you said that she was your mum's aunt?"

"Er... right. Ignatius was mum's uncle."

"Then you're not actually descended from her. You're legally related through marriage, but not through blood. _You_ don't have any Black blood in you, while I do. So, _legally,_ we are, _distantly_ related through a familial marriage, but not through any shared blood."

"Oh... I see," Ron mumbled still looking confused.

"Besides, even if you _were_ descended from her, she was the daughter of Orion Black, who was from a totally different branch of the Black family than the one I'm connected to. Orion Black married Walburga Black and they had Sirius and Regulus. I'm more closely related to the side of the family that Walburga came from. You're related – although, only legally – to the side that Orion came from. See?" Harry said, pointing out on the tree how it all worked.

"Wait," Hermione said suddenly with dawning realization and a slightly pinched face. "Orion _Black_ married Walburga _Black_? But they were _cousins!_"

"If you look closer, they weren't the only Blacks to do it," Harry said with a slightly amused smirk pointing at two other instances on the tree where a Black married a Black. Hermione did not look particularly impressed with this.

"So Harry," Ginny started, "how did you discover all this? You sounded like you already knew, and before you mentioned having already known about your relation to Malfoy."

"Over the summer I did a bunch of genealogy research. Mostly, I was looking up my mum's side, but while I was at it, I wrote to the London Branch of the Wizarding Genealogical Society and requested a copy of the Potter family tree, and after I saw that my grandmum was a Black, I wrote again and requested a copy of the Black family tree, to see if I was actually related to Sirius by blood. Which I am... which is actually pretty brilliant, but not really the point."

"You said you were looking up your mum's side?" Hermione asked.

Harry turned to her with bright eyes. "I was. And I discovered that her maternal great-grandmother was a squib who got disowned from a wizarding pureblood family and ended up having to live her life as a muggle."

Ginny gasped in excitement, Ron looked shocked, and Hermione just gaped at him.

"But... I thought your mum was a muggleborn?" Ron replied with a confused voice.

"From the reading and research I've been doing this summer, I don't think there's really any such thing as a true 'muggleborn'. Any so-called muggleborn is really just the first magical child in several generations of squibs." Harry explained. "There has to be an origin for the magic. It can't just spring up out of nowhere. Pure human's have no magic in them. They have to have blood from a magical source to make them magical; ancestors, even hundreds of generations back, who were magical creatures. Witches and Wizards came to be because humans had children with magical beings like dryads, pouka, nymphs, incubi, succubi, sidhe, harpies, veela, and nagas. My mum descended from a line that had, at some point long ago, bred with naga. It's where my parselmage abilities come from. Not because Voldemort supposedly _gave me some of his powers_, like Dumbledore tried to tell me back in second year. I biologically inherited it from my mum's magical ancestors."

Hermione gasped. "You really think so, Harry? But your mum wasn't a parselmouth, was she?"

"No, but I think the magic was still too weak inside her to give her access to her naga bloodtraits. Just standard neutral magic. There was barely enough magic left in her blood just to make her a pretty decent witch, after several generations of breeding with muggles, let alone provide a powerful enough core to tap into her heredity creature magic. But since my dad was a pure-blood with a wide variety of different creature blood in his family tree, it was enough to provide me with a powerful enough core to tap into it. That's my theory anyway."

"But how can you be sure that you mum descended from a family that had naga blood?" Hermione asked.

"I looked them up. The family my ancestor came from were all parselmouths. The last of them died out about fifty years ago, so the family line is gone and dead."

"I wonder if you could legally claim decent from them," Hermione mused.

Harry shrugged. "I doubt it. I think they disowned and disinherited my ancestor the moment they were sure she was a squib. Not that they had anything left to their name that I could inherit anyway. The family died off, penniless, and any family treasures vanished with their deaths. Not that I really care about that. It's just neat knowing where I came from, you know?"

Hermione's eyes were glowing with intrigue and awe and she looked wistfully at the family tree on the wall before suddenly taking on a look of contemplation.

"You should look into your ancestors too, Hermione," Harry said with a gentle, encouraging smile.

She looked at him and nodded. "I think so too... I just don't know where to start."

"Well, like I said last year, for a fee the goblins can perform a blood inheritance test, but that will only tell you if you descend from someone that has an open vault with them. It wouldn't have worked for me since the family I descend from didn't have any money in Gringotts. I've heard of a ritual that's used to generate family trees, like this one –" Harry said, waving his hand at the large Black family tapestry on the wall, "so that it's self-updating and everything. With the proper spells, it will generate the last so-many generations on the tree automatically. I'm not entirely sure what's involved or necessary, but we can look it up. I'd be willing to bet that one of the books in the Black library would detail how it's done."

"Oh, Harry! That would be fantastic!"

– –

The rest of the afternoon was mostly uneventful. Dinner was once again, rather awkward and conversation between Sirius and Mrs. Weasley was clearly strained. Afterwards Harry followed Ron up to their now shared room and Harry removed his trunk from his pocket, tapped his wand on the top and unshrunk it and then shoved it against the foot of the tiny twin-sized bed that would be his for the next two nights. He grimaced at the thought of that before sighing heavily.

Ron opted to return to the drawing room in hopes of drawing the twins into a game of gobstones and Harry told him that he'd probably join them in about twenty minutes or so because he wanted to relax for a bit and sort through his trunk.

As soon as Ron had left and Harry was sure the ginger was back on the 2nd landing and in the drawing room, he pulled his cypress wand out of his trunk, cast an area silencing charm around his shoes, slipped the wand into his inner pocket and made his way out of the room, up the stairs to the 4th landing, and silently down the hall to Regulus' room. He took extra care to be as quiet as possible since Regulus' room was across the hall from Sirius' room, and Sirius and Lupin were both in there. In fact, Harry could hear the muffled sound of the two of them talking through the closed door.

He slipped through the door to Regulus' bedroom and closed it behind him without making a single noise. Before he even turned to face the room he could feel the strong presence of Dark magic in it. Of course the whole house was still saturated with Dark magic, but while Mrs. Weasley had succeeded in ridding the rest of the house of its precious artifacts and heirlooms, Regulus' room clearly still had numerous Dark object_s_ in it.

Harry turned and took in the room before him. The Slytherin colours of emerald and silver were everywhere, draping the bed, the walls and the windows. The Black family crest was painstakingly painted over the bed, along with its motto 'Toujours Pur'. Beneath this was a collection of yellow newspaper cuttings, all stuck together to make a ragged collage featuring news on various Death Eater attacks and rumors and speculation about Voldemort.

Against the wall to Harry's right was a study desk that was covered messily with papers, books and old quills, all covered in a thick layer of dust. Past that was a chest-high dresser that was covered with an assortment of old relics. It was from this direction that Harry sensed the most powerful of the Dark objects. He took a few steps closer and paused. He scrunched up his face with a mild air of confusion. Something felt... _familiar._ Harry wasn't sure how to put the sensation he felt into words, but something about the magic felt like _home_. Which made absolutely no sense at all.

He walked over to the dresser and his hand hovered over the front of it for a moment before it was drawn to the 2nd drawer from the top. He pulled it open and discovered the drawer was filled with Dark treasures. Any clothes that may have once resided in the drawer had been removed to make room for them.

He examined the scattered collection of objects that lay in the drawer. There was a magnificent necklace of opals, a glass eyeball, a pair of rather evil looking carved wooden masks, a rusty spiked instrument of some sort, several ancient-looking rings, some earrings, a broken mirror and...

Harry sucked in a harsh breath as his eyes laid upon the source of the familiar magic that had called him this drawer. It was a silver locket on a long delicate chain. The locket itself featured an ornate jewel-encrusted S on the front, made to look like a snake. He could feel the magic thrumming through the locket in the rhythmic beat of a heart.

_Tom's heart..._

Harry's hand extended into the drawer, trembling slightly as he neared the object that Tom had once described to him. _Why was it here? Wasn't it supposed to be in some heavily guarded cave somewhere, surrounded by an army of inferi?_

Finally his fingers grasped the delicate chain and he pulled it out of the drawer. He lowered the locket into his other palm and suddenly released a gush of breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding.

The locket was cold to the touch, and yet it somehow felt almost warm in his hand. Like that point where something is so cold that it almost feels hot. He could swear he felt the rhythmic beat within it against his hand. The swirling power of the piece of Tom's soul that was trapped within the tiny confines of the silver founder's heirloom was pleasant and soothing. Harry quickly found himself slipping the chain over his head and securing the locket under the front of his robes, hanging down beside his glamor ring that was still on a chain that was currently also around his neck.

The locket was cold against his chest, but the sensation of burning warmth quickly replaced it. It almost felt as if the heartbeat of the locket was in sync with his own. He could almost feel the magic of Tom's soul that was deep within himself, greeting the piece that was in the locket. But perhaps he was just imagining that in his head.

Harry glanced back at the drawer, but anything else of interest that remained within it paled in comparison to what he had just discovered so he closed the drawer and quickly slipped from the room to return to his and Ron's shared room on the second landing. The room was still empty and Harry quickly locked the door. He found himself standing in the center of the room almost frozen with shock. It took him a moment to shake himself of it and sit down on his bed. He closed his eyes, cleared his breathing and called out to Tom through their connection.

–

Voldemort was sitting at the head of the long table in the conference room of Riddle manor. Lucius Malfoy, Giles Vanity, Montgomery King, Clive Selwinn, and Augustus Rookwood were all sitting around him listening as Lucius gave his weekly report. These were the members of his Death Eaters that held high positions within the Ministry of Magic and he called them in at least once a week to report on their work and any new information that was pertinent to their cause. They also gave written reports, but he still preferred to have these meetings face to face since it always gave him a better idea of their real impressions on what was happening then could be conveyed in written reports.

Despite the importance of what was being discussed, he found himself distracted and disinterested. Which was bothersome and annoying. What was most annoying was knowing the reason for his distraction.

He missed Harry.

It was so absurd. Utterly ridiculous. It had been less than one day and he missed the boy. It wasn't as if he wouldn't be back in a few days. And he'd left the manor for nearly this long to go out and run errands or meet with people to work on alliances... He almost huffed out in frustration, but Dark Lords do not huff in front of their followers for no apparent reason. If he huffed in frustration while Lucius was talking the man would likely misinterpret it and think he had done something to displease him. In reality, he was hardly even paying attention to Lucius. His mind kept flitting back to his impromptu confession to Harry upon his departure.

He still wasn't sure what had possessed him to do such a thing. He _knew_ he had fallen in love with the boy. He wouldn't deny that, and he knew that Harry knew it too. It was an unspoken understanding.

Harry had said the words to him a few times. Most often during sex. Harry even chanted it from time to time. His favorite was when Harry chanted it in parseltongue in that breathy voice...

He paused in his thoughts to regain control of himself. He nearly smiled. Bloody hell, what would his followers think of him if he let his emotions show on his face with them gathered here?

He let a small scowl slip onto his face before forcing back an impassive mask. It was nearly obscene the effect Harry had on him. Not nearly. It _was_ obscene. And yet he had no desire to change anything about it. He just had to get control of himself. Harry would be back in a couple days and with the use of his time-turner, Harry would be able to be here every day and things could continue to progress smoothly.

Voldemort had just succeeded in refocusing his attention on his followers when he felt a familiar intrusion into his mind.

_'Tom?'_

He blinked but kept his face blank.

_'Yes Harry? Is this important, I'm in the middle of a meeting?'_

_'Important? Yes. __Definitely__ important.'_ Harry replied and there was something to his tone that caused concern to bubble up in the Dark Lord's chest.

He held his hand up, cutting Lucius off mid-word and causing the other Death Eaters to all look at Voldemort with confusion and hesitation.

"Wait a moment, Lucius, something had just come to my attention." Voldemort said before looking, unfocused away.

_'What is it, Harry?'_

_'You said that Slytherin's locket was one of your horcruxes, right?'_

_'Yes...'_

_'And you're positive that it's in some cave somewhere under a mountain of protections?"_

_'Yes, I'm positive. Harry, wh –"_

_'Can you think of any reason why it would be in the Black family home, instead?'_

_'Harry, what are you talking about?'_

_'It's here, Tom. Or rather, right now, it's around my neck.'_

_'You must be mistaken –'_

"_I'm not. It's still a horcrux. The piece of your soul is still inside it and it called me to it. I can feel it inside the locket right now.'_

Voldemort felt a wave of mixed emotions roaring through him. Confusion and disbelief was the strongest of them, but anger and even a bit of fear was mixed in with them. How – _HOW –_ was it possible for the locket to have been found, let alone moved?

And –

_'The Order of the Phoenix... Dumbledore... you don't suppose –?"_

_'I have no idea, but I almost get the impression that no one realized it was here. Hermione told me that Mrs. Weasley had them all cleaning out the house and they were just throwing out every Dark artifact they found. Hermione and the family house elf had saved some of them and hid them in Regulus' room because the elf wouldn't let anyone in there to clean. It sounded like it would have gotten thrown out with the trash if she hadn't saved it.'_

_'Regulus' room?'_ Voldemort replied before a memory flashed through his mind and he paused. _'Regulus' elf was the one I used to test the protections around locket,' _he recalled, suddenly.

_'Was the elf's name Kreacher?'_

_'I honestly don't know what the little beast's name was. I left it there to die wit__h the inferi.'_

_'Well what if it didn't stay there and die?'_

_'It couldn't have escaped.'_

_'Couldn't it have just 'popped' out?'_

_'It's impossible to apparate in or out of the cave. There are wards in place –'_

_'Yeah, but house elves can pop in and out of wizard wards, easy.' _Harry pointed out.

Voldemort felt himself freeze in place and he had to swallow the undignified groan that wanted to escape from his throat. _'Merlin, I was such a fool!'_

_'It's an easy thing to overlook.'_

_'No, it was a foolish thing to overlook! There's no telling how long the locket has been outside the protections of the cave... and in the Black family home... in the house Dumbledore has chosen to use as his headquarters! Circe, what are the chances...?'_

_'What are the chances that I would just randomly stumble across it? Pretty damn lucky, if you ask me.' _Harry said.

Voldemort mentally chuckled, but it was tinged with obvious exasperation. _'I swear, love, you're blood is made of felix felicis."_ he paused and let out the smallest of sighs._ "Thank you for finding it.'_

"Master?" Lucius' hesitant and slightly concerned voice cut through and Voldemort looked up and gave the blond aristocrat a sharp look and held up a finger to indicate him to wait.

_'I need to return to the meeting love.'_

_'Of course. I'll bring the locket with me when I come back in two days and I'll keep it safe until then.'_

_'I know you will.'_

Voldemort felt Harry's consciousness leave his mind and let out another small breath of air. He scowled down at the table for a moment as his mind processed what he had just discovered. For who knows how many years... and if Regulus was involved, it had to be at least fifteen years, since the man had disappeared... disappeared with absolutely no explanation. Perhaps he had fallen victim to the cave's protections? The elf could 'pop' out, but Regulus would not have been able to escape with the locket... In any case, the locket had been missing from it's safe place for at least fifteen years, and he had been completely ignorant of that fact.

He wondered suddenly if his faith in his other locations' protections could also be empty. Was it possible for any of the others to have been discovered or disturbed? The diary that he had left with Lucius – he paused and glared up at the blond who instantly paled and cowered a bit under the deathly glare of his Lord – and the diary had been destroyed. He had left the locket in the cave and if it weren't for Harry's bizarre, unnatural luck, it could have been lost. Thrown out with the trash by some idiotic blood-traitor witch, or worse, discovered by Dumbledore and destroyed.

The ring... the ring was hidden beneath the Gaunt's hovel in Little Hangleton. It was –

He froze. Dumbledore _knew_ about Little Hangleton and the Riddles. Could he also know about the Gaunts? If he went to investigate it would he discover the ring?

_He needed to check on his horcruxes._ He needed to _know_ that they were still safe and intact. He could have Harry check on the diadem once he was back at Hogwarts, and once he was able to get his followers out of Azkaban he would have Bella check on the cup. There really was no chance that it would be missing since the Goblins loyalties lie with the customer and not the Ministry. They would never hand over the contents of a vault to the Ministry, even if the owner of the vault were incarcerated in Azkaban.

Still, he needed to _know_.

He would go tomorrow and begin checking on them.

– –

The rest of Harry's evening was completely uneventful. He kept the locket around his neck with his ring, and kept his high collar fastened shut. After spending some time in the drawing room with the other teens, he and Hermione went to the Black library and started looking for any signs of a book that would describe how a family tree was generated.

They didn't have any luck, but they still had all day tomorrow to look. Finally Harry retired to his shared room, slipped into a pair of dark gray satin sleep pants, bid Ron goodnight, and lay in bed, until Ron's obnoxious snoring became loud enough that Harry was sure the ginger was out cold. He pulled his cypress wand out from under his pillow where he had slipped it earlier that night, and cast a two-way silence ward around his side of the room that would break if Ron got out of bed.

Relieved by the sudden decrease is ear-shattering noise Harry returned his wand to its hiding place, slipped into his mindscape and along the connection to Tom's mind. The other was preparing for bed and felt Harry's arrival. The pair conversed while Tom finished his preparations and then for a while longer after he had climbed into the bed. Tom told Harry of the meetings he had had that day and any things learned worth note. Tom also told him of his intentions to investigate the Gaunt shack to make sure the ring was still were it was supposed to be.

Finally they said their goodnights and Harry slipped from Tom's mind and returned to the dismal, discomfort of the tiny foreign bed. Nearly an hour passed and Harry was still trying in vain to sleep. Tom had finally drifted off to sleep – Harry could feel it through their connection – and Harry wasn't about to wake the other just because _he_ was suffering from insomnia. Tom was comfortable and warm in their wonderful bed. Harry was on a lumpy, musty, ratty old mattress that was, until very recently, infested with doxies. It really was no wonder that Harry was having trouble sleeping. He didn't exactly anticipate anything better the following night either, and was glad that he only had to spend two nights in this bed.

No matter how much the deep Dark taint of the house comforted him, he still didn't like being in it. The Dark magic that existed in Riddle manor was younger – only having been introduced since Tom had taken residence in the house – but it was familiar and Harry missed it.

Harry sighed heavily and twisted onto his side, trying to get comfortable on the monstrosity that was pretending to be a mattress. Ron was still out cold across the room on his own lumpy bed. Harry could see the other boy's mouth open and close with what was undoubtedly very loud snoring and was grateful, for the nth time, for silencing charms, and that his trace was gone so he had no problems with casting them here.

Harry tried to clear his mind, but found himself thinking over his interactions with his old 'friends' from the previous day. Things really had gone generally well with the Weasley brood and Hermione. He had known that the gingers would be the hardest to do any of this with, and he was still going to have to make regular dips into Ron's mind – shudder the thought – to see if the jealous prat had ratted Harry out to his parents or to Dumbledore.

It would be inconvenient if Ron did, but it wouldn't be a huge detriment to Harry's plans. He hadn't told Ron that he had gone _Dark_; only that he didn't trust or want to work with Dumbledore anymore. And if _that_ got back to Dumbles or the senior Weasley's, Harry was still confident that he could work it to his advantage. That he could argue with them that if they wanted him to trust them that they should be honest with him and share information with him. They would either refuse to do so and he would have even more valid reasons to openly not trust them, or they _would_ share info and he could use that against them. It was perfect.

And yet it didn't look like he had an awful lot to be concerned over since Ron had seemed surprisingly open to the web of lies Harry had spun for them. Harry found himself smirking into the darkness of the room.

Harry really didn't believe much of what he had told to them – nor what he had told to the Minister earlier that month. They were basically paranoid conspiracy theories, and even Harry – with all his deep seeded hatred of Dumbledore – realized that they were probably not entirely true – at least not to the extreme extent Harry had hinted at. It was highly unlikely that Dumbledore had been intentionally slipping Light magic into the curriculum with the intention of raising generations of Light wizards to serve in his own personal army. However, that was just the sort of paranoid concerns that would feed into Minister Fudge's easily manipulated little mind.

_Yes_, the Hogwarts curriculum had been slowly introducing more and more Light magic into everyday practice, but it was unlikely that it was a part of some large insidious plot. Harry knew this. It still made for a very convincing argument when delivered well. And he could deliver it quite well.

He also didn't believe that Dumbledore frequently used Legilimency on the students of Hogwarts. He _did_ believe that Dumbledore _had_ been using it on _him_. However, the other students... not so much. In fact, the fact that he hadn't read Hermione's mind during the meeting with her up in his office towards the end of last term just went to show that he probably avoided using it on students unless truly necessary. At the time he apparently hadn't thought the need was great enough to violate Hermione's privacy by delving into her thoughts.

He didn't doubt that Dumbledore had implanted the suggestion about Myrtle's bathroom, and the revelation that Dumbledore had visited the Weasley's the summer before first year was definitely interesting, but he didn't think Dumbles had made a regular habit of reading the mind of Harry's 'friends'. Although that could likely change now...

He knew he needed to teach some of them Occlumency. Hermione at the least. He intended to keep tabs on Ron's mind, so it wouldn't be very beneficial to teach the ginger idiot how to shield his mind, but he highly doubted that Ron had the propensity for it anyway.

Aside from the revelation that he didn't trust Dumbledore, Harry had no intentions of letting anything more _sensitive_ slip in Ron's presence, so hopefully it wouldn't be a big problem if Ron couldn't protect his mind from Dumbledore.

It was enough that Harry had planted the seeds of doubt in all of their minds. They were all going to be second-guessing and paying closer attention to Dumbledore's actions from here on out, and that was exactly what Harry wanted.

After all, Dumbledore does regularly do some rather questionable things, all on his own. People usually dismissed it as him 'being eccentric', or him '_being Dumbledore'_. But now that the seeds of doubt had been planted, they would be less apt to just ignore it and more likely to look for deeper motives.

Harry shifted again and sighed, annoyed at his inability to sleep. He missed Tom. It was really that simple. Suddenly an idea sparked in his mind and Harry twisted around, leaned over the side of his bed and hissed the password to the third compartment of his trunk. He opened it enough to slip his hand inside and pulled out the locket. He had placed it in there so Ron wouldn't see him wearing it. He shut his trunk, got back into bed and placed the locket around his neck.

Instantly the familiar presence washed over him and he sighed contently.

This was exactly what he needed. Or at least, as close to it as he could hope to get at the moment.

The bed was still uncomfortable; the pillow smelled of dust and storage, and the bed was frustratingly small, but at least he didn't feel so alone in it anymore. Sure, he carried a piece of Tom with him at all times anyway, but he'd come to realize that the sliver of Tom's soul that had accidentally gotten lodged within him was considerably smaller than the pieces intentionally broken off for the horcruxes. Tom suspected it was one of the reasons that the piece of Tom within Harry was really only capable of such stilted and staccato conversation. And even that was limited to only when Harry went into his mindscape. His 'companion' no longer had the strength to come into his waking mind of its own will. That power had left it when the pieces of Tom's personality had returned to him through their link.

So it was reasonable that the power and strength of the horcrux in the locket would feel stronger. Less than ten minutes passed before Harry had completely slipped into slumber and when he woke the next morning, he felt completely rested.

–

Harry once again dressed in some fashionable modern-day wizard robes, since he found them far more appealing and comfortable than the traditional ones that, as far as he was concerned, looked more like frilly dresses than sensible male fashion. His attire had Ron's little green monster of envy silently rearing its ugly head behind his blue eyes as he watched Harry get dressed for the day. In the bathroom, Harry had used his cypress wand to cast a notice-me-not on both the locket and his glamor ring that he had once again hung around his neck on a chain, before he secured the wand in his disillusioned wrist holster. His holly wand was in his outer robe pocket just for show. He couldn't use it because it was summer and underaged wizards 'couldn't use magic' in the summer. But he knew in years past he would have kept it on him anyway, just out of habit and comfort, so he did so now just to keep up appearances.

Breakfast was comfortable enough since Sirius was apparently a late-sleeper and Mrs. Weasley was clearly in a much better mood without him present, and Mr. Weasley joined them, since it was a Saturday and he didn't have to work.

After breakfast Harry and Hermione went to the library to continue their quest for a spell or ritual to generate a family tree. Ginny said she'd probably join them later to help, while Ron just grumbled about how he refused to spend the last day of his summer holidays around books and went back to he and Harry's room.

Harry and Hermione had been going through the shelves of books for about an hour when Hermione opened _yet another_ book that wailed and screamed at her and she slammed it shut in a frustrated huff.

"How are you doing it?" she moaned in exasperation and Harry blinked at her in confusion.

"Doing what?"

"You haven't opened a single book that screamed at you, or tried to bite you, or anything like that! Am I just unlucky and getting all the really nasty ones? Or do you know something I don't?"

"Ooh," Harry said with dawning comprehension and a light chuckle. "Nah, I can just sense it. Which ones to avoid, I mean."

Hermione scrunched up her face and looked confused. "What do you mean, you can sense it?"

"I sort of... _feel_ magic in things. It started about a year ago and I've been slowly working on developing it ever since. I mean, I think I probably always had the ability, but I only really started to figure it out last fall."

"I think you've mentioned this before." Hermione said slowly with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Yeah, I think I may have... anyway, I can feel the magic in things. Like this house? It's crazy how much magic there is in everything. I mean, Hogwarts is saturated with magic, and it's _ancient_, but it's mostly neutral magic with a little bit of mix here and there from things added by various headmasters and teachers over the centuries. But this house? This house is _all Dark_. And it has seeped into everything. There's this thick taint of magic all over stuff, even if it's not enchanted at all itself, it's still managed to absorb some of the ambient Darkness... Anyway, the books that are particularly nasty just feel a lot more... _tainted_ then the rest. I can feel which ones are kind of cursed, or are charmed to react to the wrong sorts of intentions. Plus..."

He trailed off hesitantly and Hermione looked at him impatiently. "Plus, what?"

"Well... I think you're also getting a lot more er... _negative_ reactions from the books because of all your um... muggle blood." Harry said with an apologetic grimace.

Hermione huffed and folded her arms over her chest indignantly.

"I can point out what books to avoid, if you'd like." Harry offered.

Hermione sighed and eventually relented. Harry went down the row of books she was currently looking through and pulled each of the more dangerous books out an inch just to note where they were.

"You know Harry, it really is remarkable that you can _sense_ magic like that. I've read of a few instances where really powerful wizards had an ability to do something like that, but it's supposed to be really rare."

"Yeah, so I've read."

–

An hour later and the pair of them were sitting in a pair of wing-back chairs with a pile of books on a small table between them, and a few more on the floor in front of them. Most of the books they'd pulled hadn't turned up anything of interest, or only mentioned or summarized the existence of rituals or spells, but not actually detailing how it was done.

Ginny came in and with a brief explanation from the other two of exactly what they were looking for, she started skimming through the books for anything useful. Harry wished he could just use his search spell and make it go a lot faster, but he wasn't willing to reveal to the other two that he could use magic outside of school, so he settled with doing it the hard way. It was nearly time for lunch when Harry finally found something truly useful.

It described _exactly_ what to do to create a family tree on a tapestry. It was an incredibly complex process that included, among a few other things, brewing a potion that would take one full lunar cycle to complete, and required a few hard-to-acquire ingredients – although Harry was sure he could easily come by them as long as he didn't have to tell Hermione where he got them. Hermione would also need a sample of blood from each of her parents to determine which one was a squib and which one really was just a muggle. Fortunately it didn't require a large blood sample and there wasn't any worry about storing it or anything of that sort. It was as simple as Hermione mailing them two pieces of carefully prepared parchment, and each of them pricking their finger and placing a few dropped of blood on it before mailing them back. This was certainly nothing that her parents would refuse – at least she was convinced so. Especially after she told them that it was part of a genealogy thing.

The book detailed every step of the process, including all the variations a person could perform on the preparation process to achieve different results. Hermione wasn't planning on going all out and creating a big self-updating tapestry that would track all of her future descendants, or know which ones to exclude details depending on their gender, who they marry, and all that, so she didn't necessarily need many of the features described. What _she_ cared about was going back on the tree as far as possible.

Unfortunately, that looked to be the most complex part. If she was starting a fresh tree that would start with her and stay up to date, it would be easy. Going back without any information would be harder. But still doable.

Hermione was definitely excited.

Harry stood from the group and offered to track down Sirius to ask permission for Hermione to keep the book. Hermione was grateful and said that she would gladly return the book once they were done with it, but Harry doubted that Sirius would really give a damn either way.

He left the library and was heading down the hall towards the stairs when he was suddenly overwhelmed with a torrent of emotions. Anger. Pure, unadulterated fury! Then dawning horror and a moment of true panic. Fear was tricking through him and he felt his knees grow weak and suddenly he was down on the floor, propping himself up with one hand while the other was clasped securely over his scar where a tremendous headache had sprouted in the midst of the emotional explosion.

Harry realized suddenly that he must have screamed out or something because Hermione and Ginny came running out of the library, quickly joined by Ron who came from his room. Harry was dizzy and felt the room spin a little as he was prodded by his 'friends' to turn and sit down on the floor with his back to the wall.

_Tom needed him. _That was the only clear thought he could get through his muddled mind as he consciously ignored the concerned questions the group of teens were throwing at him. Someone called out in a loud voice and a moment later Sirius was standing over him, looking down with concern etched on his features.

Lupin's equally concerned face appeared a moment later over his shoulder, and then Mrs. Weasley.

_Damn it! Damn damn damn!_ He needed to get away from here. Away from these stupid people and get to Tom! But how the hell was he going to do that with the whole damn household hovering over him? They wouldn't leave his side now that they were all worried!

"I'm alright!" Harry said loudly, all of a sudden, pushing Mrs. Weasley's hand away rather bluntly and shakily standing to his feet. The group took a few steps back to give him room, all looking at him with worry in their eyes.

"Was it a vision?" Ron asked in a hoarse voice. "Of Y-You-Know-Who?"

Ginny sucked in a harsh breath and looked over at Ron with shock on her face before her gaze darted back to Harry; her eyes asking for confirmation.

Shit.

How was he going to play this? Just deny?

He could already tell from the look in Hermione's face that if he denied it, she wouldn't believe him.

Was there a way for him to use this? If there was, he couldn't think of a way at the moment. His mind was too muddled and overwhelmed. Tom's torrent of emotions were still coursing through him and they were mixing him all up. He couldn't think straight.

"Look, I... I need to lay down, I think." Harry said ducking his head and trying to push past the crowd and made his way down the hall towards his room. At which point, he recalled that he was sharing the damn room with Ron and Ron would probably try to follow him in there. Maybe he could claim exhaustion and pretend to sleep. Or just ask Ron for the space.

He shook his head, trying to clear it, but only managing to make himself feel even more dizzy. It had been ages since he'd been so overwhelmed by anything from Tom. Of course Tom hadn't experienced any emotions this strongly since their bond had formed. Harry was also startled that his scar had actually _hurt_ a bit. It hadn't hurt at all in nearly a year.

_Tom needs me_.

He grimaced. He couldn't think of any way to escape Grimmauld Place and get to Tom before September 1st. Not in person, anyway. But he could go to him through their link.

Harry reached the room and went inside, promptly closing it before anyone could follow. He could hear a few of them attempting to protest, but it was quickly given up... or at least he thought so until the door opened and in walked Sirius.

Harry sighed heavily as he sank down onto his bed.

"Are you alright, pup?" Sirius asked, walking over and pulling a chair to directly in front of where Harry was now sitting on the bed. "Ron mentioned a vision?"

Harry rolled his eyes a bit. "It's not the same but... it is Tom. Something's happened."

"What do you mean, '_something's happened'? _How can you tell?"

"It's complicated, Sirius. And I don't know what's happened yet, because I'm stuck here, and because I can't get a minute alone. I need to check on him and..." Harry huffed. "Can you maybe make sure they all stay out of here for a bit?"

Sirius frowned. "What are you going to do? You aren't going to try and go somewhere, are you? Believe me when I say, you can't portkey out of this house. My father layered every kind of protection imaginable on this house –"

"No, I'm not going anywhere. Not yet at least. I've got another way to get in contact with him. I just need some privacy. Can you help me?"

Sirius sighed and nodded his head. "Sure... what should I tell them?"

"Tell them I told you I've got a killer migraine and I'll talk to them all later."

"Fine."

Sirius stood up and returned the chair to the desk against the wall. He gave his godson one final look of concern before leaving the room and closing the door behind him. Harry waited for a moment before pulling out his cypress wand, locking the door, and casting a privacy ward around the room. He laid down on the bed, closed his eyes, and slid through the link.

_'Tom? Are you there? What happened?'_ Harry asked, and realized rather quickly that his mental voice sounded damn-near frantic. Of course, he _felt_ frantic, so he was really only appropriate.

It took a moment before he got a response.

_'I'm here...'_

_'What happened? I got this huge rush of emotions from you. Anger.. fear... even a bit of desperation. What's going on? I collapsed on the floor, it was so intense!'_

_'You collapsed? Are you alright?'_

_'I'm fine! What happened to you?'_

_'It's... not there.'_

_'What's not there?'_

_'The ring. The damn, bloody ring! It's not there!'_

Harry felt his chest seize up. One of Tom's horcruxes was missing.

_'How... I mean, do you... wha...'_ Harry paused, trying to sort out his thoughts and ask a coherent question. _'Can you tell how long it's been gone? Who might have taken it?'_

_'I think that's probably the most infuriating part. I believe it was only taken very recently. It damn well could have been yesterday!'_

_'How can you tell?'_

_'All of the spells were only just recently dismantled. All of the magical signatures around the place was extremely fresh.'_

_'But who –' _Harry stopped before the question even escaped his mind. He already knew the answer. _'Dumbledore.'_

_'Yes. Unquestionably. I could feel his magic there.'_

_'He wasn't just in Little Hangleton to investigate Riddle Manor 'disappearing'. He was also searching for the Gaunt house.'_

_'That is my assumption as well.'_ Tom replied. _'My only consolation is that it would appear that he did not manage to go completely unscathed from my protections. There was evidence that he felt victim to at least one of the curses I placed on the ring. The extent of the damage, I cannot know for sure...'_ Harry felt Tom release an almost defeated sigh.

_'Do you think he'll know what it is?'_ Harry asked.

'_He very well may. Considering he was able to examine the diary after your second year, I would find it surprising if he hadn't at least suspected what it truly was.'_

_'You said that a horcrux is near impossible to destroy... will he know how?'_

_'It will likely take him time... I hope so, at least.'_

_'Will you know if it's destroyed?'_

_'I am unsure, Harry... I never knew the diary was destroyed. I always assumed I would be able to tell. That I would feel something like that.'_

_'You didn't have a body yet when the diary was destroyed...'_

_'True... true.'_

_'We can't let Dumbledore keep hold of the ring though... there's got to be something we can do!'_

_'We will have to tread carefully, but yes, we cannot leave it in his possession. His hands are the most dangerous that it could remain in. He will not allow it to remain intact for long.'_

Harry paused, his mind deep in thought for a few minutes. _'If he knows about your horcruxes, it's imperative that we make sure the locket is put somewhere safe... will he be able to sense it? I mean... if I go to Hogwarts with it around my neck, will he be able to tell?'_

_'I doubt it, but I cannot guarantee it. If it was in the Black manor all this time, and Dumbledore has been using it as his headquarters without realizing that it's there, then I would assume he cannot sense it. Still, it is probably best if it does not remain with you once you return to the school.'_

_'I had expected to give it back to you anyway,'_ Harry said.

_'Yes... it is probably for the best that it not stay anywhere near Dumbledore, but I had honestly intended to let you continue to wear it.'_

Harry found himself slightly startled, but also touched by that proclamation. Tom already trusted Harry with one piece of his soul, but to willingly give him another... Harry almost felt a bit sentimental about the whole thing and found a soft smile curling up his lips.

_'You can wear it when at the manor,'_ Tom continued. _'You could keep stored it in the time-turner room between your switches._'

Harry paused, still surprised that Tom wasn't insisting that it be stored somewhere much safer and behind a mountain of protections, especially considering that one of his horcruxes was known destroyed, and another was currently in the possession of Dumbledore, who no doubt would be doing everything in his power to destroy it as soon as he was able.

_'Thank you...'_ Harry found himself whispering over the link.

_'Don't be ridiculous, Harry. There is no one else I would trust with it.'_

Harry smiled at that.

_'I'll do everything in my power to make sure the ring is recovered.' _Harry said suddenly.

_'We'll see... I –'_ Tom began but cut off abruptly. _'Someone has arrived at the manor. There are no meetings scheduled for today...'_ Tom paused, and his mental voice remained silent for a moment. Harry waited, feeling slightly on edge. _'It's Severus. I'll contact you later.'_

_'Alright,'_ Harry said, reluctantly. _'I'll talk to you later.'_

_'Bye, love.'_

Harry found himself smiling again. _'Bye.'_

– –


	15. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary: Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta Pass by tannne

AN: This chapter will get you all through the Grimmauld Place stuff. I'll be a bit before I continue with posting Part 2. I intend to post the next big batch around early December.

– –

Chapter 14

Severus Snape was not having a good day, and he suspected that it was only going to get a lot worse. He just _knew_ it was. He wasn't even sure why. On one hand, it could easily be construed that the news he was going to be delivering to the Dark Lord could be considered _good_ news. Despite this, he had the sinking feeling that something _bad_ had happened.

Of course, as far as Dumbledore was concerned, and the wizarding Light in general, something bad _had_ happened. But _that_ was the part that was likely the good news for the Dark.

Late the previous night, he had received an almost frantic firecall from the Headmaster, requesting his immediate assistance. He had flooed directly to Dumbledore's office to discover the man in the process of trying to counter one of the Darkest curses Severus had ever personally witnessed any man be afflicted with, and not instantly die. But this was Dumbledore he was dealing with, and he realized he shouldn't be surprised.

Despite all of Dumbledore's boundless knowledge and experience, the fact remained that Severus was far more knowledgeable when it came to Dark curses, and counter-curses. He had done everything in his power to fight against the curse, that had been centrally focused on the man's right hand because the stupid old fool had put on some sort of cursed ring. Severus had just barely managed to contain the curse in the hand and keep it from instantly spreading to the rest of Dumbledore's body, killing him then and there. But the curse was not gone. It was not destroyed or cured. The curse was still there... locked within the now shriveled and blackened hand. A curse that would slowly and painfully kill the ancient wizard.

Dumbledore's days were now numbered. This was tremendous news for the Dark, and yet... Severus could not help but worry that something bad was about to happen.

He apparated into the entry hall of the Dark sect's headquarters and paused, wondering where to check first for the Dark Lord. He was about to simply call one of the house elves to him, and ask it to contact his master for him, when he caught sight of the man in question descending the stairs, glaring at him.

The Dark Lord was _not_ in a good mood. He could already tell, just from the man's aura and what little of his expression was distinguishable on his serpentine features.

Severus bowed low and spoke. "My Lord, I have important news."

The Dark Lord came to stand before Severus, glaring down at him for a moment before turning and making his way towards the long hall.

"Come, Severus." He said in a cold, high voice.

Severus quickly righted himself and followed. He was led to the conference room and the two entered. The Dark Lord took his seat at the head of the table and Severus sat across from him. A quick motion of Voldemort's long bony fingers, and an impatient expression was all Snape needed to quickly begin his tale.

He told the Dark Lord about being called to Dumbledore's office. About the curse, and having to work to counter it. He told him how he had contained it, but that it was not cured. He made it a point to emphasize that Dumbledore was truly as good as dead.

"How long do you suspect he has?" the Dark Lord asked, interrupting Severus' tale.

"I would wager he has no more than a year before the curse destroys him."

Voldemort nodded slowly and his eyes looked cold and calculating.

"The ring on his finger... did it appear in tact?"

"It... appeared to be... yes. The curse was gone from it, since it had transferred to Dumbledore himself and been neutralized on the original ring. He was still wearing it, even when I left."

The Dark Lord's eyes narrowed and Severus could feel the waves of fury emitting off the powerful Dark wizard that sat before him. The hair on his arms stood on end, and in that moment, he truly feared that he would get cursed, and he wasn't even sure why.

"I want you to try everything in your power to retrieve that ring for me Severusss," Voldemort said after a long, tense moment. "It is of tremendous value to me, do you understand? Dumbledore must _not_ be allowed to destroy it!"

"Yes, m'lord," Severus said instantly.

"If at any point you see a difference in it... if it suddenly appears damaged or if he stops wearing it, I want you to inform me, or Harry, immediately."

Snape blinked, slightly stunned, and definitely bewildered as to what Potter would have to do with it, but he kept his curiosity to himself. He also couldn't help but note that the Dark Lord had called him 'Harry', and not 'Potter'.

"You will need to watch Dumbledore very closely from here on out, Severusss. Now that his days are numbered, he is likely to become desperate. His actions will be less predictable. Even _I_ do not know what to expect from him now..."

Severus nodded slowly. "Yes, my Lord. I will not fail you."

"See that you don't."

– –

Harry had managed to dodge the questions of his fellow teens for the rest of that day by acting moody and grumbling about a migraine. He had asked Sirius about the book for Hermione. Sirius had scoffed and said Hermione could have it. He didn't give a damn about any of the books in the library and he would likely see them all burned, if it were up to him. Harry had glared at him and told him if he ever did that, Harry would be extraordinarily angry with him.

Sirius had laughed, but Harry had been quite serious.

After dinner Harry's 'friends' finally cornered him about what had happened earlier that morning, insisting that he be honest with them because they were his friends and he could _trust them_. Harry had fought the urge to roll his eyes.

He finally told them that he really wasn't sure what had happened since he had only felt pain in his forehead and gotten hazy impressions of emotions. There had been no images to go with his scar pain, so it wasn't a vision. Just a massive migraine.

Oddly enough, it was almost the complete truth.

Hermione was the one to pick up on the 'impressions of emotions' part, and inquired further on that.

He sighed and told them that it was anger. A lot of anger. Again – almost entirely true.

The others were clearly concerned and kept shooting Harry worried glances. Ron was the first one to actually ask Harry if he thought that it was from 'You-Know-Who', and if this actually confirmed Dumbledore's suggestion that Voldemort was back.

Harry had just sighed and shrugged, insisting that he really didn't know.

– –

Harry managed to escape the constant presence of his 'friends' and slipped up to the 3rd landing again and made his way to Sirius' room. He knocked lightly and heard Remus' soft voice beckoning him in. He pushed the door open and peered in to find Remus sitting at a desk with a book in his lap, looking up curiously. A quick glance around told him that Sirius wasn't there.

"Sirius is up tending to Buckbeak, if that's who you're looking for," Remus Lupin said with a soft smile.

Harry just smiled back and shook his head. "Actually, I'm here looking for you."

Remus blinked. "For me?"

"Yes... do you have some time to talk? It's... well, it's important, and it's going to take a while to cover everything, too."

Remus sat up a bit straighter and set the book down on the desk. "Of course, Harry. What is it?"

Harry took a few steps in, turned back and closed the door while quietly hissing a parseltongue privacy ward that would prevent any eavesdropping, and alert him if anyone approached the door.

As he turned back he sat Remus's brow was furrowed and he was looking at Harry cautiously. Harry realized suddenly that Remus likely had heightened hearing as an effect of his lycanthropy. He took a few steps forward giving Remus an apologetic, but reassuring look as he pulled another chair forward and sat opposite Remus.

"You cast a spell," Remus stated cautiously. "I felt the... magic."

Harry distinctly heard the word left unsaid. _Dark._ The _Dark_ magic.

"I did," Harry said slowly with a small nod. "It's parselmagic. With all the wards and protections around this house, under-aged magic can't really be detected by the Ministry. But even without that, my parselmagic tends to go unnoticed by my trace since it's wandless."

Remus' brow rose with mild surprise, but he didn't comment further. "You needed to talk about something?" he asked, instead.

Harry nodded his head and reached into his pocket and pulled out a small round orb. It was basically the same thing he'd used on Snape at the end of the last school term, although he had no intention of making use of a few of its features.

He looked at the orb in his palm hesitantly for a second before looking up at Remus. "Do you trust me?"

"What?" Remus blanched.

Harry held his hand out, offering the orb to Remus. "I have some things I want to reveal to you, Remus. You, Sirius, and my father were best friends. I've already told Sirius, and you deserve to know the truth as well, but I can't take risks right now. There's so much at stake and if the information I'm going to share with you gets into the wrong hands, I'm as good as dead. If you touch this orb, it will protect the information I am going to give you, in your mind. Will you do this for me?"

Remus looked stunned and his eyes drifted down to the small glass-like orb in Harry's hand. His brow furrowed as he looked at it intently for a moment. His eyes flickered back up to Harry's. "It's Dark magic, Harry..."

"I know. It won't hurt you. I won't use it to do anything harmful to you, I promise."

"What does it do, exactly?"

Harry sighed. "Quite a few things, but I'm not going to use most of its functions. The part I intend to use will protect the information you learn from the moment you touch the orb until I cancel the spell."

"Protect in what way?"

"Legilimency can't extract it from your mind, and truth serums can't force you to speak of it. Also... I have the option to revoke the knowledge."

"What does that mean?" Remus said, sitting up straighter and looking confused.

"If, at the end of our talk, I don't believe that you are handling the information well... I can remove it instantly. The information is enclosed by the magic of the orb. The orb can protect it, or it can dissolve it away and you won't remember me telling you anything."

"And you think this is a necessary precaution?"

"I do."

Remus sighed and carded his hand through his short, graying hair. "Alright... fine." Remus extended his hand and hesitated over the orb for the briefest of moments before taking it from Harry's grasp.

It glowed as soon as Remus took it and Harry felt the magic take hold.

Harry sighed and smiled at the aging werewolf. "Thank you. Okay, now I want you to understand that what I'm going to tell you is extremely hard to believe, and worst of all, I can't provide you with proof of what I'll claim. I showed Sirius memories in a pensieve, but I couldn't bring it with me, so we don't have the luxury here, and tomorrow I have to go back to Hogwarts... " Harry huffed a bit in annoyance.

"Okay, I'm just going to tell you what I've managed to piece together. Explaining to you all of the steps and discoveries I went through to gain all of this information would take too long and would be too confusing. Just believe me when I say that it took me nearly a year to figure out everything that I'm about to tell you, and that I _swear_, I'm not lying, or making any of it up. I don't have proof, and as such, I acknowledge that you'll likely feel less inclined to believe it, but I swear to you that I am absolutely convinced that what I'm about to tell you is the truth."

Remus was looking concerned and wide-eyed. "Alright Harry. I'll listen with an open mind."

Harry grinned thankfully. "I really appreciate that, thanks." Harry took a deep breath as if to center himself and gain his strength before looking Remus in the eyes with determination.

"Nearly sixteen years ago, at the height of the first war, Dumbledore bore witness to a seer's prophecy. It said, '_The only one with the power to match the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... The Dark Lord will come for him and mark him as his equal. He will have two paths from which to chose. From one path, the End will fall upon us all. From the other, we shall be saved. The Dark Lord and his Equal will either rule together, or destroy each other._

_For either to die, it must be at the hand of the other for neither can die while the other survives."_

Harry paused and waited a moment as a wide-eyed and pale Remus took in his words. "After Dumbledore heard that prophecy he came to the obvious conclusion that it meant two possible paths lay before us. One path where a savior would be born that could defeat Voldemort, and another path were the Dark Lord's equal was about to be born, and would eventually join his side and make him unstoppable. Maybe you've realized this, and maybe you haven't, but Dumbledore is always working from the shadows to control and manipulate everything. He makes it seem that he's doing nothing at all, when in reality he's quietly controlling all of the chess pieces. He saw this prophecy as an opportunity to create the Light's savior. In an attempt to guarantee that the outcome he preferred came to pass, he staged an encounter with one of Voldemort's spies.

"He had the seer come back and meet with him again, but this time in a more public place – in the Hog's Head pub in Hogsmeade. He _imperiod_ the seer and forced her to fake a prophecy, but an altered one."

Remus' eyes widened and he looked as if he were about to protest but Harry held up his hand to silence him.

"The seer's fake prophecy went like this," Harry continued, _"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives..." _

Again, Harry waited for Remus to go over it in his head. "One of Voldemort's Death Eaters overheard a portion of this prophecy and believed that it was a true prophecy about his master. He would have overhead all of it, but was interrupted part way through. The point of this altered prophecy was to get Voldemort to _personally _go after this child. For him to _attack_ the child. With the modified prophecy, the child was clearly a significant threat. Pure and simple. So Voldemort would attack the child. But according to the _real_ prophecy, '_For either to die, it must be at the hand of the other for neither can die while the other survives.' _Dumbledore's hope was that if Voldemort attacked the child, he would destroy himself. It was a naïve hope, honestly..."

Harry sighed and shook his head. "It quickly became clear that the child the prophecy spoke of was most likely the child of James and Lily Potter, although the potential existed that it could have been Frank and Alice Longbottom."

Remus' eyes widened and his lips parted slightly, but he didn't speak.

"Dumbledore told my parents the fake prophecy. My father even told Sirius _about_ the prophecy, but didn't tell him what it actually said, just the jist of it." Harry paused. "Did they tell you?"

Remus sighed and shook his head. "No... they never told me."

Harry nodded his head, having expected as much. "They were worried. There was a traitor in the Order, and you being a werewolf made them all suspect you." Harry snorted in mild disgust. "Light wizards would never truly trust a Dark creature..." he sighed and shook his head. "Dumbledore was the one who suggested to my parents that they should go under the fidelius charm. He even offered to cast it for them... which they _accepted_." Harry paused and gave Remus a pointed look.

The werewolf frowned and his brow furrowed in thought.

"This is the part where I know many people would have trouble truly believing what I'm going to tell you," Harry said then, "you see, Remus... Dumbledore needed Voldemort to try and kill me. His whole plan had been leading to this. A direct, unencumbered encounter between myself, and Lord Voldemort. So he actually needed Voldemort to be able to get to me easily, but he also needed for there to be little to no resistance, and no chance that my parents could escape with me.

"The house was cut off from the floo network, and there were powerful anti-apparition and anti-portkey wards around the house. Erected by Dumbledore. The Fidelius was cast _by Dumbledore_. Do you realize what that means, Remus? The person who casts the Fidelius _knows_ who the secret keeper is. He sets it himself. Dumbledore _knew_ it wasn't Sirius. He _knew_ it was Pettigrew. In fact, I suspect that he even knew that Pettigrew was a Death Eater, and it was _he_ who really put the idea into my dad and Sirius' head to switch to Peter. He _wanted _Voldemort to be able to waltz right into our home without any resistance, and that gave him the perfect opportunity to do just that."

"Harry..." Remus whispered, shaking his head slightly in disbelief.

"Dumbledore _handed us_ to Voldemort on a silver platter. He was willing to sacrifice the lives of my parents, and of _me, _all for the _greater good_ of ending the war and destroying Voldemort. And perhaps that may seem like a reasonable sacrifice, but it was _my life_, damn it!" Harry growled. He took a deep breath to calm himself and continued.

"The thing is that Dumbledore's interpretation of the prophecy was incomplete and there were factors at work that he was ignorant of. Voldemort entered our home, killed my father, killed my mother, and shot the killing curse at me. I suspect that a combination of things played a role in my survival. A slew of coincidences that, on their own, wouldn't have been enough, but together, created an unexpected surge of magic that prevented Voldemort's killing curse from killing me and set the rest of the prophecies' events in motion.

"You see, Remus... my mum was related to Voldemort. They were basically cousins," Harry smirked and chuckled at Remus' stunned expression. "My mum's great-great grandmum was Voldemort's great aunt. My mum actually carried the blood of Slytherin in her veins. I also think that she had prepared a sacrificial blood ritual, in anticipation of Voldemort coming for me. They knew that the Dark Lord was coming for me, and were in hiding for several months before that Halloween when he came, so she had time to prepare for the worst case scenario.

"The ritual she used wouldn't normally protect against the killing curse... just about any other curse, but not the killing curse. _Nothing_ can block that... but the fact that it was a _blood_ ritual, invoked powers from her Slytherin heritage, and reacted to the spells that Voldemort had performed in preparation for a very dark soul ritual... it reacted unexpectedly... that, was combined with the fact that her life was an actual, legitimate, sacrifice. You see, Voldemort wasn't going to kill her. He was willing to spare her life, so when she refused to stand aside, and was killed by him, it was a legitimate life-for-life sacrifice.

"So I lived, and Voldemort's body was destroyed. But the key here is that _I lived_. I now had a mark on my forehead, and I lived. It was obvious to Dumbledore that the prophecy had only begun. It was not done, and as such, he knew that Voldemort was not truly dead either. If the real prophecy held true, then it meant that there was still the possibility that I could _choose_ to join Voldemort, or I could _choose_ to stand for the Light and sacrifice my life in order to destroy the Dark Lord.

"But he didn't trust a child with such an important role. He needed to manipulate my entire life to mold me into the type of person who would _choose_ to be a martyr to the Light. He couldn't allow me to be raised by a Black because at the end of the day, Sirius was still a Dark wizard and Dumbledore would never fully trust him. He also knew that Sirius would have raised me to be a strong, self-sufficient wizard, and I would not be easily manipulated by Dumbledore then. So Dumbledore allowed Sirius to get sent away to Azkaban without a trial and left him there to _rot."_

Remus' face was a mask of horrified disbelief, and barely contained fury.

"He needed me to be weak," Harry continued, "malleable, submissive, and desperate for any sort of praise or approval, so he left me with abusive, magic-hating muggles who destroyed my self confidence, and made me feel worthless and powerless. Completely ignorant of the magical world, it's politics, and history. A blank slate so that when I entered Hogwarts he could fill my head with his ideals and goals and mold me into the savior that he needed me to be. Since I entered Hogwarts, he's even used Legilimency on me to implant subliminal suggestions in my head, just to make sure I really would follow the path that _he_ had chosen for me. The path that he set me on when he started this whole shitty thing."

Harry's voice had risen a bit throughout the whole rant, and he found himself snarling and sneering in disgust. He paused and took a few deep breaths to recover himself. Finally he spoke again in a deathly quiet voice.

"Well it's not _his choice_, is it? It's _my_ choice. And I refuse to be his pawn. I'm not some ignorant, beaten-down little boy. Not anymore. I'm a powerful wizard, Remus. I am my own man and I can make up my own damn mind."

Harry paused again and remained quiet as Remus' face went through several transitions as he processed everything. Finally some sort of dawning realization came to him and he looked at Harry with wide, almost horrified eyes.

"Are you suggesting that you intend to join Voldemort?" Remus whispered.

"Dumbledore is the reason my parents are dead, even if Voldemort cast the actual killing curse. It was war, Remus, and my parents chose to fight in it. They knew the risks. Plus, he would have never had any reason to personally target my parents if Dumbledore hadn't set the whole prophecy bullshit in motion. _Dumbledore_ got us targeted. _Dumbledore_ left Sirius to rot in Azkaban. _Dumbledore_ left me with horrid abusive muggles, knowing how they would treat me. _Dumbledore_ arranged for me to come face-to-face with Voldemort in my first year by luring him to the school with the Philosopher's Stone in hopes that we would go head-to-head and kill each other. _Dumbledore_ allowed the students to be endangered and get petrified my entire second year in hopes that I could end up confronting Voldemort again, and left a twelve-year-old child to face a fifty-foot basilisk, all on his own! _Dumbledore_ is the bane of my fucking existence, _not Voldemort!_ As far as I'm concerned, _my enemy_ is Dumbledore! _Not Voldemort!_"

"Voldemort is a murderer!" Remus gasped in horror.

"And Dumbledore isn't?" Harry snapped. "If anything he's worse because he tricks other people into committing murder _for him _so he can keep his own soul untainted by murder. He manipulates other people into dirtying their hands while his stay apparently clean. He's a bastard, Remus! He's a lying, deceitful, manipulative, nasty old bastard! He wants to use me and throw me away, and allow my entire life to be utterly miserable until the point in time when I will fulfill my usefulness and destroy Dumbledore's biggest mistake."

"Dumbledore's mistake?" Remus whispered in confusion.

"Voldemort." Harry whispered softly. "He was raised by abusive muggles too, you know. A wizarding child, left to grow up with muggles who didn't understand him or his powerful accidental magic. Who thought he was evil because of the strange things he could make happen. Who beat him, and tried to exorcise his demons through horrific muggle religious rituals. And Dumbledore was the one who came and collected him when he turned eleven and was accepted to Hogwarts. Dumbledore knew how they treated him. He knew the horrors that he had to go back to each summer, and yet, he refused to help him. He didn't trust him. He could have done something about it, Remus. He could have saved the Dark Lord from becoming the miserable, bitter, empty monster that he became for so many dark and lonely years. And in the one moment, when Voldemort attempted to take another path – the _one, deciding moment_ when he could have become something other than a Dark Lord, Dumbledore, once again, stood in his way and refused him because of his own paranoid, suspicious mind.

"Dumbledore's actions created the Dark Lord, and now his actions have created the Dark Lord's equal. I stand by Voldemort, Remus. That's my choice."

Remus gaped at him, stuck dumb and stunned, utterly. Several long minutes passed before Remus seemed to come to his senses. He swallowed thickly and took a shuddering breath.

"What about the part of the real prophecy that says one path will lead to the end? What if this path is the one that destroys the world?"

"I'm fairly sure it isn't. There's a whole other prophecy... much older and far grander. It seems connected to all this. I'm convinced that if I join Voldemort's side, we'll be working towards the right path. There's something coming, Remus. Something big. Dumbledore doesn't even realize it, but I truly do believe that his actions are only going to make things much much worse. He's blinded by his desire to see the best in everyone and his blindness will result in all of our deaths if something isn't done to stop him."

Remus stared at Harry with wide, stunned eyes for a long minute.

"You're not going to explain that, are you?"

Harry sighed. "Not yet... I'm sorry, but it's some fairly sensitive information."

Remus chuckled humorlessly and gave a long heavy sigh.

"All this stuff about Dumbledore, and you joining Voldemort – Sirius knows all of this?" Remus asked weakly, looking at the floor.

Harry nodded his head. "He does. Why do you think he's refused to join the Order again?"

Remus' head came up and he looked at Harry with wide eyes. "He hasn't joined Voldemort, has he?"

"No. We even gave him the opportunity to have Pettigrew handed over on a silver platter in exchange for him joining the Death Eaters, but in the end, I knew it wouldn't work out. Not for Sirius. He offered to follow me just out of loyalty and his duty as my godfather, but I knew I couldn't really ask that of him. So instead I simply asked that he remain neutral."

"And that's what you're asking of me?"

Harry looked at Remus for a long minute before sighing. "I suppose. Honestly, I can't understand why you stand by Dumbledore at all. I imagine it must be out of loyalty since it was his actions and protections that allowed you to get a wizarding education, despite your affliction. But in the end, Dumbledore is the _Light_ Lord, and his duty is to the Light wizards, and the Light creatures. He has no respect, and owes nothing to the Dark creatures he is trying to enlist.

"Those werewolf packs he did manage to convince to follow him in the last war were left to their own devises once Voldemort fell. Dumbledore didn't follow through with any of the promises for equality or increased rights that he made them. Not one promise that he made was kept."

"He couldn't get anything through on his own," Remus defended, weakly. "He is only one man. He..."

"He is the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards! He defeated Grindlewald and received an Order of Merlin, first class! He has more respect and influence than any other single man in wizarding Europe, and has a hoard of powerful political allies! He could have done _something_! He never had any intention of fighting for the rights of werewolves! He is a _Light_ Lord, and werewolves are _Dark_ creatures! He used them, and he's been using you!"

Remus's face once again looked defeated and broken. "You know the worst part of all this, Harry?" Remus asked, rhetorically.

"Hmm?"

"I think part of me already knew. Not... not all that about the prophecy, but I knew he wanted you for something. I knew that Sirius couldn't have been the one to betray your parents. It just _couldn't_ have been him... but I did believe he had killed Peter and those muggles. Just the same, I wanted him to have a trial. I couldn't understand how Sirius could have been locked up without even being questioned! It wasn't right!

"And... and when I realized that Albus was sending you to live with Petunia... oh, Harry, I'm so sorry. I was horrified, and I tried to talk him out of it. I _tried _to explain that she was an awful woman and she had hated Lily. She had caused your mother so much grief... but he insisted that he'd taken measures to guarantee your safety with them. That Petunia would treat you as if you were her own son. Despite his guarantees, I still asked him if I could just take you. I even threatened to petition to the Ministry."

Harry's eyes grew wider as Remus talked. He could see how broken the man's face looked.

"But he... Merlin, I should have known something was horribly wrong... he _threatened_ me, Harry. Not in so many words. Not in any obvious way, but the threat was definitely there. He said that he would have exposed my condition to the Ministry if I had tried to claim custody of you. To prevent it from having gone through. He said that it was far too important a piece of information for the Ministry to consider my custody application without knowing of it. So I gave up. I let you stay with those awful people, even though I knew, deep down, that it was a terrible idea.

"But I also wanted it to all be easy. For it to be true. That you really would be safe and loved there. I _wanted_ it so badly, that I allowed myself to be pushed aside. And now... having read the interview you gave... knowing how they treated you. Oh Harry, I'm so sorry."

"You can't blame yourself, Remus. You did everything you could. I understand, and I certainly don't blame you." Harry said, in a reassuringly soft voice.

A heavy silence fell upon the room for a long minute before Remus let out a slow sigh.

"I've suspected that there was something bigger going on between you and Albus for a while now... especially during your third year when he allowed those dementors around the school. He claimed that he couldn't do anything about it; that he couldn't fight Fudge but..." Remus sighed and shook his head. "You know, he was the one who suggested I try teaching you the patronus. I thought he was mad for even suggesting it. Teaching a thirteen year old kid a spell like that..."

Harry's head shot up and his eyes widened slightly. "He knew I'd be practicing it all year long. That much time constantly practicing such an advanced Light spell... he _wanted_ me to do it because he knew it would affect my affinity!" Harry exclaimed in a hushed voice.

Remus looked up with a slightly confused expression on his face.

"My magical affinity was _definitely_ Light at the start of my fourth year," Harry explained. "Pure Light. But it was forced. It was an unnaturally acquired affinity. It was like that because of all the training with the patronus charm! Remus... do you understand what it means that Dumbledore is the Light Lord?"

Remus blinked and shook his head. "What it means? No. What do –"

"It's a position granted to him by Magic itself. It's a title that has to be won through a set of tremendously difficult trials that have to be completed in absolute secrecy. He had to have done it in his youth, many, many years ago. Voldemort did the same sort of thing when he decided to become the Dark Lord."

Remus gaped at Harry, but didn't interrupt.

"The thing is that the Lords of affiliated magic are tied to all wizards and creatures of their affinity. They are duty-bound to protect those of their affinity and to fight for their cause, but the wizards and creatures of their affinity are bound to their Lord as well. They are magically compelled to give their absolute loyalty to their Lord. If I had remained a Light wizard, I would have felt magically compelled to swear my loyalty to Dumbledore.

"It's the biggest reason that Dumbledore has never truly trusted your or Sirius. You, being a werewolf, naturally have a Dark affinity. Sirius has a Dark affinity because of his ancestry and his upbringing. Neither of you will ever be magically compelled to serve Dumbledore with the level of unwavering support and loyalty that he gets naturally from any Light wizards. Do you see? He allowed the Ministry to place dementors around Hogwarts knowing that they'd come after me. He did it so that I would feel the need to find a way to protect myself. I would be driven to learn the patronus charm and he instructed _y__ou_ to teach it to me. He wanted me doing it, so that my affinity would go Light and he'd get my loyalty!"

Remus' jaw had fallen wide open and his eyes were giant circles. Slowly he closed his mouth and looked away, unfocused, at the opposite wall.

"Merlin... it's just too much..."

Harry sighed. "I know... believe me. I know. So what will you do, Remus? Now that you know?"

"What would you have me do, Harry? I'm just one man and I'm not a very powerful one... I have no influence. I have nowhere else to go. I have nothing right now. Even if I don't like Dumbledore or what he's doing, I don't know what else I can do right now. Leave the Order, I suppose, but where do I go? I..."

"You are not 'just one man'; nor are you weak! You are a werewolf, Remus! The Lycans are a powerful race! It is not an affliction that you should be ashamed of! You have spent your entire life, surrounded by Light wizards who have destroyed your spirit and filled your head with self loathing, and Light agenda propaganda! You fear what you are so you deny it and hide from it. It only makes you suffer more!"

"Harry, you don't understand! It –"

"I understand, plenty, Remus! You're allowing yourself to be used by Dumbledore and the Order. I'm not saying that you should join Voldemort, but I truly do believe that you need to reconnect with what it really means to be a werewolf. Dumbledore has you going to visit the various lycan clans right now, right?"

Remus nodded his head hesitantly and Harry continued.

"Don't waste all your time there trying to convince them to join the Order's side, or remain neutral from Voldemort. Take advantage of the opportunity to get to know them. Learn about them. Embrace your inner wolf and see for yourself what life as a werewolf can mean for those who do not shun their true nature as you have your whole life. _That_ is what I ask of you."

–

After a bit more discussion, the two finally ended their talk. Harry left Remus with his memories intact, but the power of the orb would prevent Remus from revealing anything that he and Harry had discussed with anyone else. Using the orb, he gave Remus permission to discuss what he had told him with Sirius, but no one else. If he tried to fight against the magic and reveal any of what Harry had told him to anyone else, the magical compulsion would seal his mouth shut and knock him unconscious.

Any new discussions or thoughts that related to this topic would be included in the magical web inside his mind, also protected from mental intrusion or truth serums, so any additional information revealed by Sirius would still be protected.

After leaving the room, Harry sought out Sirius, who was sitting up on the terrace of the room Buckbeak was staying in, staring up at the stars. He told Sirius that he had told Lupin and gave Sirius permission to discuss the things he had told Sirius with the other man. Finally, Harry retired to his and Ron's room and sighed, trying to clear his mind of all the things that had happened that day.

Shortly after that, Tom slipped into Harry's mind and filled him in on Severus' visit. Harry was shocked to learn that Dumbledore was actually _dying_. The idea that Dumbledore had less than a year to live was strangely startling, and oddly enough, Harry wasn't sure how he felt about it.

He certainly wasn't _saddened_ by the thought. Although, if he were being honest, he felt a bit cheated. It was awfully anticlimactic for the old Light Lord to go out in a slow painful death from a Dark curse.

But at least, he would die because of one of _Tom's_ curses.

Still; definitely disappointed. Harry realized that he really had wanted to be the one to do it. The one to _end_ Dumbledore. But still, he wasn't convinced that he _could_ do it with his current skill level. Dumbledore was _Dumbledore_, after all. Harry had anticipated having more time to prepare. That there would be some sort of epic battle in the end, where he could give some sort of dramatic monologue, rubbing his turn to the Dark side in the old bastard's face.

Which was really a rather naïve idea, if he was being honest with himself. After all, wasn't that now most villains met their ends in stories? Because they got lost in some idiotic monologue and allowed their opponent to get the upper-hand?

Still; he couldn't help but imagine it that way in his head. Gleefully picture the look on the damned fool's face as he realized the full extent of Harry's switch in loyalties...

But all his imagined scenarios involved Dumbledore on the ground, or on his knees after falling from some epic duel, and Harry had to admit that, despite all his tremendous advances in skill and power, he really had no idea how he would compare to Dumbledore... He knew he wasn't really ready yet – but could he possibly get ready during the year that remained until the damned old man died on his own from the stupid curse?

Harry scowled.

How anti-climactic.

Stupid old fool. Harry was honestly surprised that Dumbledore had been careless enough to put the ring on. It seemed obvious that it would be cursed. Dumbledore had, had to go through several layers of curses and protection spells before getting to the actual ring, so why would he suddenly get so sloppy and put the damn thing on?

It was just... _weird_.

He was shocked that Dumbledore would _wear_ one of Tom's horcruxes at all, if he was being honest with himself. He hoped that Dumbledore didn't make a habit of wearing the thing constantly. It would make it a lot harder to steal if the old bastard never took it off.

And he _had_ to get it back. It was a piece of his Tom! He couldn't allow another piece of Tom's soul to get destroyed. He just couldn't!

– –


	16. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary: Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta Pass tannne

AN: Warning! The end of this chapter contains a sexual scene. It will be marked so if you're squeamish or something, you can skip it.

Happy Thanksgiving :) Here's an early surprise for you. May be two days before I post the next one. It hasn't come back from my beta yet.

– –

Chapter 15

The morning of September 1st was decidedly hectic. The Weasley's, it seemed, were biologically incapable of doing anything in a timely and organized manner. It also appeared that packing ahead of time was a foreign concept to the males of the family. Even the twins were scrambling.

Mr. Weasley had arranged for a couple of magically expanded cars from the Ministry to take them from Grimmauld Place to King's Cross station. Even with the vehicles expanded as they were, two cars were needed to accommodate not only Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Ginny, Fred, George, and Harry, but _also_ the two Aurors, Kingsley and Tonks, Remus, Emmaline Vance, Sturgis Podmore, and a _large black dog_.

Sirius had taken Harry aside back at Grimmauld Place early that morning and given him a gift that he said was to make up for his shoddy gift on Harry's birthday. It was a specially charmed mirror. He told Harry that it was part of a pair and that he had the other. He would keep it on him at all times, and if Harry ever needed to talk to him, all he had to do was look into the mirror and say his name.

Harry had stowed the mirror away in his trunk and given his godfather a hug. Now the man was in his animagus form and following as the large group hurried through King's Cross station towards the barrier that lead to Platform 9¾.

The group made it with only minutes to spare before the train was scheduled to depart at 11 o'clock, and their goodbyes had to be brief. Harry had knelt down and given Padfoot a hug and earned himself a slobbery lick on the side of his face in return. Harry shook Remus' hand and gave him a significant look. Remus had nodded his head slightly, but still looked a bit ill and unsettled.

The teens finished their farewells and boarded the train. The twins went off to find Lee Jordon, while the rest found an empty compartment to stow their trunks in, Hedwig's cage, and Hermione's kneazle-cat, Crookshanks. Ron pouted as he was left behind with the pets while Harry and Hermione bid him a quick goodbye so that they could go to the Prefect meeting.

Harry and Hermione made their way to the front of the train where the prefect's car was located, directly behind the train engine. Upon entering the car, Harry's eyes were drawn to Draco Malfoy, who was relaxing in an arrogant pose, beside Pansy Parkinson, Miles Harper and Chastity Warrington, the Slytherin 6th year prefects, and Adrian Pucey, one of the Slytherin 7th year prefects. Their eyes remained connected for an instant, and Harry even let a small smirk curl his lips before his eyes darted away and he pointedly ignored the Malfoy heir.

He and Hermione sat down beside Nathan Lubbock, one of the Gryffindor 7th year prefects. Hermione greeted Padma Patil and Anthony Goldstein, the two Ravenclaw prefects for 5th year and Harry gave them a curt nod.

Cedric Diggory walked into the compartment then and Harry greeted him with a smile and a nod. Diggory was apparently the Head Boy that year, and Harry congratulated him on the position. Cedric gave him a warm smile in return and thanked him. Cedric then introduced him to Patricia Stimpson, a 7th year Ravenclaw who had been made Head Girl.

The meeting quickly got underway and the older prefects began to explain to the new 5th year prefects the duties they would be responsible for during the train ride to Hogsmeade. For the first half of the journey they would need to patrol the halls, stop any fights, and lend assistance to anyone who needed it. Cedric asked the eight 5th years if any of them knew the charm for expanding the train compartments, since that was one of the most commonly requested things during the train ride. Harry, Hermione, and Padma were the only ones who knew it. Draco scowled when he wasn't able to claim that he could do it.

Cedric then demonstrated the charm for the remaining 5th years, and told them if they still couldn't do it, and they came across a group that needed their compartment enlarged to make room for more people, to just find one of the older prefects.

The meeting didn't last too much longer. Patricia Stimpson finished up by telling them what they'd be expected to do after the Feast with the first years, and for their first rounds of the school that night, and then told them what time to show up for the first prefect meeting at school the following evening. Finally, they were all dismissed to start their shifts for patrolling the train.

It was nearly two hours before Harry and Hermione's patrol shift was finished and they were able to return to the compartment they had started out in hours prior. Harry slid the door open to find a disgruntled looking Ron sitting with his arms folded across his chest, sitting across from Ginny and a blond-haired girl that Harry only vaguely recognized, but did not know.

"Finally back, are you?" Ron spat sharply. Harry paused and gave Ron a hard look and raised a single eyebrow at him, daringly. Ron's eyes widened slightly for a moment before he ducked his head, slightly cowed. Harry had to swallow a smirk as he finished entering the compartment and sat down on the bench beside the blond girl while Hermione came in and sat beside Ron.

"Hey, Harry, Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed. "Um, this is Luna Lovegood. Luna, this is Harry Potter and Hermione Granger."

Harry turned to the blond girl and gave her a welcoming smile. She had very wide, pale-blue eyes that seemed to give her the constant appearance of being surprised. Her hair was dish-water blond and long, falling to just below her shoulders. At first, it appeared as if she were wearing a pair of earrings, made to look like radishes, but Harry quickly realized that she was wearing _actual radishes _as earrings. To add to the curiousness of her appearance, he next realized that she had what looked like a cork on a piece of twine around her neck.

"It's nice to meet you," Harry said, offering her his hand. She took it, gave it a quick shake and smiled back dreamily.

"Nice to meet you as well."

Hermione, who was sitting a bit too far away to reasonably offer a handshake, simply nodded and said hello.

"Luna is in my year," Ginny explained. "She's in Arithmancy and Ancient Runes with me."

"Oh, I'll be in there with you lot this year," Harry said. "I just switched electives. I was taking Divination and Care of Magical Creatures, but I realized I'd get more benefit out of the others. McGonagall let me switch, but I have to go down a year so I'm not too far behind."

"That's interesting. Does it mean you are no longer taking Care of Magical Creatures?" Luna asked.

"Yeah, I didn't want to overload myself too much. Three electives just seemed a bit much for me right now."

"That's really too bad. I'm quite fond of Care." Luna said, still speaking in a rather airy, dreamy voice.

"So you're taking three electives then?" Harry asked.

"Oh yes." Luna said, nodding her head.

"Luna _is_ a Ravenclaw," Ginny pointed out, as if that explained everything.

"Oh, are you? You know, part of me has always been surprised that Hermione didn't end up sorted into Ravenclaw." Harry said.

Hermione's head shot up and her eyes widened a bit. "Why would you say that?" she asked frowning slightly.

Harry just blinked at her, raised a single eyebrow and giving her an obvious look.

"What?" Hermione persisted.

Harry grinned and chuckled, shaking his head. "Nothing. Never mind. So, Luna, how do _you_ like Ravenclaw? I've come to realize I never really socialized with many people from the other houses."

"I suppose it's nice. Although, my housemates seem to think I'm a bit odd, you know. Some people call me 'Loony' Lovegood, actually."

No one quite seemed to know how to reply to that. Ron snorted quietly under his breath, and Hermione jabbed him in the rib with her elbow.

Conversation eventually resumed when Ginny asked Hermione and Harry how the prefect meeting and their rounds were. As Ron began a discussion on Quidditch, Luna pulled out a newspaper, turned it upside down, and began to read. Harry tilted his head slightly and peered at it, attempting to read the cover.

"Oh, _The Quibbler_," Harry said, realizing what it was. The house elves had brought in copies of The Quibbler a few times, but neither Harry nor Tom bothered to read it in any regular form, so they'd stopped bringing it and focused mainly on the Prophet.

Luna looked up and blinked at him owlishly.

"Do you read it?"

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Hermione.

"Of course not," said Hermione scathingly, before Harry could answer. "The Quibbler's rubbish, everyone knows that."

"Excuse me," said Luna; her voice had suddenly lost its dreamy quality. "My father's the editor."

"I - oh," Hermione said, looking embarrassed. "Well … it's got some interesting … I mean, it's quite …"

"I did read it a few times over the summer when the house elves brought in copies," Harry said quickly in an appeasing voice, trying to cut through the thick tension that had suddenly filled the compartment.

Luna turned her attention back to Harry and her eyes lost their cold glare. "Did you? Which issue was it?"

"Um... I recall an article on the useful magical properties of using Billywig parts for magical items, and another article on the sudden increase in the Snidget population in Northern Wales."

"Ah, that was July's issue," Luna said, the serene smile returning to her face.

"Right..."

"What on Earth is a Snidget? I've never even heard of them!" Hermione exclaimed, looking frustrated at apparently not knowing what they were talking about.

"Snidgets are small golden birds with fully rotational wings. It's completely round, covered in fluffy golden feathers, has a long, thin beak, and its eyes are bright red." Luna explained.

"They're actually what the Golden Snitch in Quidditch is based on," Harry explained and Hermione turned her glare on him. "Although, most think they're extinct..." he finished.

"Oh no, they're not extinct. In fact, their population is flourishing now that the Wookalars in the region have all fled and are no longer feeding on them." Luna replied.

"Wookalar?" Hermione exclaimed.

Their conversation continued in this vein until the announcement came through the train, informing the students that they would be arriving in Hogsmeade Station in about twenty minutes.

Hermione was thoroughly flustered by this point. She had argued and bickered with Luna, insisting that most of the creatures she talked about where nonsense, while Luna insisted quite persistently that they were not nonsense at all.

Harry, after a while, just sat back and watched with mild amusement.

Once the announcement was made, the guys left the compartment to allow the girls to change into their robes, and then the group switched. The train finally pulled up into Hogsmeade and all of the students disembarked, leaving their trunks and pets behind to be transported to the castle by the house elves.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Luna all made their way to one of the large carriages, lined up just beyond the platform. Harry paused as he came to the large, winged, skeletal horse that was at the head of the carriage. His hand came up, almost instinctively, drawn to the beautiful and yet also horrible, creature.

He brushed his hand over its leathery head, running his fingers through the surprisingly soft black mane on the back of its head.

"Hullo beautiful," Harry cooed to the majestic creature.

"So you can see them too?" Luna's airy voice cut in from behind him.

Harry blinked and looked back at her. "You can see them?" he asked, mildly surprised.

"See what? What are you doing, Harry?" Hermione asked coming up from behind him.

"I've been able to see them since my first day here," Luna answered Harry, pointedly ignoring Hermione.

"Who did you see die?" Harry asked in a soft voice as he dropped his hand from the Thestral and began to make his way towards the carriage with an increasingly flustered Hermione following behind them.

"My mother. She was a quite extraordinary witch, you know, but she did like to experiment and one of her spells went rather badly wrong one day. I was nine." Luna replied.

"I'm sorry," Harry said sincerely.

"Yes, it was rather horrible," said Luna conversationally. "I still feel very sad about it sometimes. But I've still got Dad. And anyway, it's not as though I'll never see Mum again, is it?"

Harry hummed noncommittally and climbed into the carriage followed by Luna and a disgruntled, glaring, Hermione.

"What _are_ you two talking about?"

"The Thestrals, of course," Luna said in an obvious tone.

"The _what?"_

"Thestrals pull the carriages," Harry said, as if that explained everything.

"Don't be silly Harry, nothing _pulls_ the carriages! They're just charmed to move on their own or something." Hermione insisted.

"No, actually, they're pulled by Thestrals." Harry said in a slow voice, as if explaining something to a young child. This was probably the wrong approach to take because it only seemed to infuriate Hermione further.

"Are you pulling my leg? There's nothing there!" Hermione exclaimed, pointing at the front of the carriage where there seemed to be nothing but empty space to all but Harry and Luna.

"Only people who have seen death can see a Thestral. You've seriously never read about them? Hagrid has a herd of them that he raised himself. They're kept in the stables not far from his hut." Harry explained.

Hermione looked as if she were about to retort something, but suddenly came up short. She blinked again at the empty space and then looked back at Harry and Luna.

Ron and Ginny, who had chosen to remain silent and were now seated in the carriage beside Hermione, also seemed to suddenly have a dawning understanding in their eyes.

"Oh..." Hermione said, softly.

"While I can see the Thestrals that pull the carriages, I still can't see the Dobhar-chú that pull the boats the first years take across the lake," Luna said.

Hermione's mouth tightened into a thin line that reminded Harry of McGonagall. "And what exactly, are Dobhar-chú?" she asked in a clipped tone as she attempted to refrain from sounding angry or accusatory.

"They're water hounds of course. They originate from Ireland and look somewhat like an otter." Luna paused and looked back at Harry. "Can _you_ see the Dobhar-chú?"

Harry blanched and sputtered slightly at Luna's rather _personal_ question. Finally, he recovered and chuckled lightly as he ran his hand through his hair. "Er... yeah. Well, I would assume so anyway. I haven't exactly been over by the lake yet and I er... well, it only just happened this summer."

Hermione huffed in exasperation, folding her arms across her chest and shooting Harry an irritated look. "Okay, so _what_ exactly allows a person to see these _Dobhar-chú,_ then?"

"Only those who have engaged in sexual intercourse can see the Dobhar-chú, of course." Luna answered with a dreamy smile.

Hermione blanched, instantly going a bit pink. Ginny squeaked before shooting Harry a stunned, and yet also _amused_ look. It seemed to take a Ron a moment longer than the rest to process the full implications of what had just been revealed. Harry could tell the very moment that realization finally dawned on the ginger because his face suddenly went as red as his hair and he gaped at Harry.

"Wait, _you_ can see them? But that would mean..!"Ron choked out before Ginny smacked him on the shoulder and then turned back to Harry.

"Harry! Are you serious? So, it happened this summer? You and Nick..?"

Harry laughed and ducked his head sheepishly. "Well, _yeah_... I mean, it was just me and Nick in the manor, alone with nothing but house-elves and Hedwig for company, for two solid months. You can't honestly believe that all we did was study the whole time?" He chuckled and smirked devilishly.

Hermione gasped and her hand flew up to her mouth. "You didn't!" she exclaimed.

Harry laughed and gave an unapologetic grin and shrug.

The carriage finally pulled up at the front steps of the castle and the group piled out of it. Hermione stood, looking hesitantly at the empty spot at the front of the carriage. Luna walked over, took Hermione's hand and guided it up until it came to rest on the Thestral's side. Hermione gasped in surprise at suddenly coming against a solid surface where her eyes told her there was nothing but empty space.

"Just because you cannot see something, does not mean it's not there." Luna said dreamily, giving Hermione a small smile before turning away and following the crowd inside the castle.

Harry and his 'friends' followed her lead and also made their way inside. Just as Harry was about to follow the others into the Great Hall, McGonagall called him aside and led him into an empty side-room.

"Yes, Professor?" Harry asked.

"I have your time-turner. I thought I ought to give it to you now so that you'll have it for classes tomorrow." McGonagall said, curtly.

Harry's eyes brightened a bit.

"Oh, great!"

"Yes well..." she reached into her robes pocket and pulled out a small hinged box and a pamphlet. "Here it is. The pamphlet has all of the information you will need to know how to use it, as well as the rules set about by the Ministry regarding what you can and _cannot_ use it for. I trust you will handle this object responsibly?"

"Of course, Professor. Thank you for your assistance in this. I truly appreciate it."

McGonagall gave him a curt nod and dismissed him so that she could go deal with the first years.

Harry quickly made his way into the Great Hall and over to the Gryffindor table where he found Ron and Hermione waiting for him. Ginny was a bit further down, sitting with a couple of girls in her year. Hermione asked him what that was about but Harry dismissed her question by telling her that they could talk about it later. The hall was filled with excited chatter until the time finally came when McGonagall led the group of first years into the Great Hall, lined them up, and then placed the small stool and the Sorting Hat upon it just before the Head Table.

The small rip in the hat's front opened up, startling the tiny first years for a moment before it suddenly began to sing. Harry tuned out the song and opted instead to let his eyes move along the head table. His gaze found Thor and their eyes met for a moment as the two shared a quick, secret smirk. Next, Harry let his eyes travel to Snape who seemed to sense it because his eyes instantly snapped to Harry's. The dark man glowered at Harry and his upper lip even turned up a bit before he looked away.

Harry had to swallow a chuckle.

His eyes made another pass of the head table and for a moment, Harry only knew that something seemed missing when his eyes fell upon an unfamiliar face. There was a woman that Harry did not recognize sitting at the head table in... _in Hagrid's seat!_ Harry frowned, wondering where the giant man was, and who the woman was who was filling his seat.

The sorting began and Harry's attention was drawn to it. He recognized the names of a few of them. He knew that at least three of them were children of current Death Eaters. One surprise happened when a young boy, that Harry knew was the younger brother of one of the new recruits, was sorted into Gryffindor. Too bad they wouldn't be old enough to be any use to their cause, but these kids were fortunate to be coming in during a year when they'd get a decent Defense Professor. Certainly better than Harry had to endure his first two years – although, admittedly, Quirrell was pathetic mostly to prevent anyone from ever suspecting him.

The sorting finished, Dumbledore stood and greeted them all with a large grandfatherly smile. Harry heard Hermione suddenly gasp beside him and his eyes were drawn to Dumbledore's blackened and shriveled hand.

"What happened to his hand?" Hermione said in a worried hush. The hall was filled with quiet whispers and worried mutterings, but Dumbledore seemed to be pointedly ignoring them.

Harry didn't respond to Hermione's panicked question either, but was instead intently focused on the ring that he could clearly see adorning the man's mangled hand. Reaching out with his senses, Harry could feel the gentle Dark presence that still inhabited the ring. Tom's soul was still in it. Dumbledore hadn't destroyed it yet. Harry let out a small sigh of relief, but still felt horribly tense knowing that his enemy was in possession of a piece of his Tom's soul.

Dumbledore continued on, ignoring the whispers, filling the hall, and simply welcomed them and with a flourish of his hands, causing the tables to suddenly fill with food and he bade them to enjoy the feast.

Harry quickly found himself the focus of a _lot_ of questions from his fellow housemates. Most asking about the articles printed about him over the summer, but some of the girls seemed intent on focusing on Harry's love life instead and asked him an endless series of questions about 'Nick'. A few questioned him about his earring, to which he responded it was a birthday gift. Hermione, it seemed, had been dying to ask about the earring but hadn't found an appropriate opportunity before that point, and jumped on this one.

She asked him why he'd gotten his ear pierced, about the symbolism behind it and if he was sure he was even allowed to wear an earring in school since it possibly went against the dress code. Harry managed to push his way through her questions and pacify her concerns with a few dismissive comments.

Once the puddings were all finished, Dumbledore stood from his chair again, waved his wand and all of the food vanished from the tables leaving behind spotless, sparkling golden plates and cutlery. The hall instantly fell silent as all attention was focused on the headmaster.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. For those of you who are just joining us this year, I hope you are ready to begin your learning experience, and for those of you returning, I hope you all have enjoyed your summer holidays and taken advantage of the opportunity to empty your heads so that we may fill them up again.

"I would like to begin by introducing our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Rowle," Dumbledore paused and waved his hand in Thor's direction. Thor had on a stern, cold, mask and gave the students a curt nod. A rush of excited whispers came from the Slytherin tables. This seemed to catch Ron's attention because his eyes darted from the Slytherins to their new DADA teacher and back before he narrowed his eyes and scowled slightly. Hermione was frowning lightly and glanced over at Harry with a worried expression.

"Next, I would also like to introduce Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be filling in for Professor Hagrid for Care of Magical Creatures while Hagrid is away on personal business. He will likely be rejoining us for second term. Until, I hope you will all welcome Professor Grubbly-Plank."

Dumbledore continued with the standard announcements about the forbidden forest being forbidden, and about Filch wanting to remind the students that casting magic in the halls between classes is against the rules. Harry wondered why 'personal business' Hagrid could possibly be away on.

"Finally, I would like to take a moment and discuss something that I personally feel is of great importance," Dumbledore said, his voice shifting to a graver tone. "It is my belief that a great change is on the horizon. There are powerful forces at work in our world, and we all must be on alert. For many years, those who would wish to destroy our peaceful way of life have remained quiet, and their prolonged silence has allowed a sense of complacency to wash across our minds and the minds of those who govern our world.

"But there is Darkness in the shadows, and it seeks to use our stubborn blindness to pull the world right out from under us. We must not allow this to happen. We must all remain vigilant, and know when to act. Keep your eyes open and do not allow complacency to blind you when Darkness is staring you right in the face. We teachers and staff here will always be available to help those who seek our aid."

Dumbledore paused and looked out over the silent room and it's thick, heavy, atmosphere for a long minute. Finally, he clapped his hands together and suddenly his face was genial and smiling again.

"Enough of that. Now, pip, pip! Off to bed!"

Deafening screeching noises filled the air as the benches slid back across the rough stone floor, and the hall was instantly filled with the sounds of chattering voices.

"What do you suppose _that_ was all about?" Ron whispered.

"Isn't it obvious?" Hermione said, exasperatedly.

"No," Ron shot back with an annoyed glare.

"He's talking about _Voldemort_, Ron."

"Oh..."

Harry and Hermione quickly went over to help the other prefects in gathering up the first years, leaving Ron to huff in annoyance and quickly tag along with Dean and Seamus instead.

The Gryffindors made their way through the corridors, towards the Grand Staircase, up and across a few staircases that decided to move as soon as they'd gotten off, and up to the entrance of Gryffindor tower on the seventh floor. They explained about the portrait of the Fat Lady and the weekly passwords and then gave a few informative announcements to the group of eleven-year-olds before splitting them up by gender and directing them to their dormitories.

Harry was already exhausted after his long and boring day on the train, but it wasn't over yet. The Prefects still had to do their rounds and Harry intended to take advantage of it to slip out of the castle. Just before heading out, Harry ran up to the fifth-years dorm room and directly over to his bed where he found his trunk waiting for him. He opened it up and pulled out his invisibility cloak and marauder's map before stuffing them into the inner pocket of his robes. Next, he grabbed the locket from his parsel-warded third-compartment and slipped it around his neck.

He hurried down the stairs to find an impatient-looking Hermione, tapping her foot on the rug-covered floor. Harry gave her a sheepish grin before following her out the portrait hole and into the castle to do their rounds.

It took nearly twenty minutes before Harry found an opportunity to split away from Hermione. He made his way to the second floor, just down the hall from the Defense classroom, and to the statue of the one-eyed witch. He spoke the pass phrase, _Descendium_, and it moved aside. He climbed down and sprinted down the long winding tunnel that would lead to Hogsmeade. He didn't go all the way there though, since he really only needed to go as far as the end of the school's wards.

He felt the tingle across his skin as he crossed through them and instantly pulled the left sleeve up to reveal the old leather cuff portkey that Tom had given him what felt like ages ago, now.

A hissed _morsmordre_ later, and Harry felt the tug behind his navel and the dizzying spinning of portkey travel. He landed in the entry hall of the manor, quickly strode over to the time-turner room and used it to go back the full twenty-four hours. While in there, he also removed the glamor ring from the chain he had around his neck and slipped it onto his finger.

When Harry exited the small closet-sized room, it was no longer the evening of September 1st, but instead the evening of August 31st. He paused for a moment, thinking that at that very moment his past self was sleeping in a lumpy little twin-sized bed at Grimmauld Place in London. It was a strange idea to grasp, even with all of the time-turner use he'd done the previous year. As soon as he exited the small closet, he found Tom standing there, waiting for him.

The two silently stared at each other for a brief moment before Harry took a few quick strides forward and wrapped his arms around the elder wizard's neck, and pulled him in, desperately close.

"Is it ridiculous that I missed you?" Harry whispered as he buried his face into Tom's neck.

Tom chuckled weakly and Harry could feel the strain over their link. Tom was still feeling the stress of having his horcrux in Dumbledore's possession and knowing it, made Harry's heart break a little, deep inside.

"If it's ridiculous, than I'm ridiculous as well," Tom whispered back.

Harry pulled back and looked up into Tom's brilliant red eyes with a soft smile on his face.

"Is anyone here?"

"No one."

Harry smiled. "Good."

"Let's go up to the study. Or are you too tired?"

"It's been a _long_ day, but I'm fine for a bit longer." Harry said as the two began to climb the stairs and make their way towards the study.

The two entered the room, Tom sitting down in his high wing-backed chair and Harry sitting down on the lounge. He reached up and pulled the locket off from around his neck and handed it over.

Tom took it into his hand and heaved a long quiet sigh. Harry could feel a small bit of relief flood across their connection. Harry was sure that Tom was extremely anxious to reassure himself about the status of the rest of his remaining soul pieces, and having one of them returned to his hands was undoubtedly a relief.

"Thank you," Tom said quietly as he ran his hand over the surface of the locket.

"I saw the ring on Dumbledore's hand during the feast. I could still sense your energy from it so the horcrux is still intact." Harry said.

Tom nodded his head slowly, still looking down at the locket.

"I'm going to get it back," Harry said with determination. "I won't let him destroy it."

"Don't do anything rash, Harry." Tom said sharply, suddenly looking up at the younger wizard with a piercing gaze.

"But I _have_ to ge–"

"You will do _nothing_ that will risk exposing your position. Our plans are too important to risk blowing your cover this early. I am not willing to risk you."

"And I'm not willing to risk you!" Harry shot back.

"I am not at risk here. My other horcruxes will continue to guarantee my immortality should anything happen to the ring."

"How can you be okay with this? It's a piece of your _soul, _Tom! It's a piece of _you!_"

"The horcruxes serve a purpose, Harry. They guarantee my immortality, and as long as one of them still exists, my continued existence is guaranteed. Ideally, I will always have more than one, and it is my desire to maintain a seven-way split, but I can certainly make do with what I've got for the time being. I still would prefer to reacquire the ring undamaged, but _it_ is not as important as _you_ are. And maintaining your cover while you are stuck in such a hostile and dangerous environment is far more important that recovering the ring."

Harry was shaking his head slowly but suddenly something Tom had said caught in his mind. "Are you actually considering making another to replace the destroyed diary?" Harry gasped.

Tom sat back and looked at Harry for a silent moment. "I'm considering it."

Harry was shaking his head again, more vigorously now. "No, Tom, please don't! I mean... I just don't know... it just seems to me like you're mutilating your soul with all this. I'll admit that I don't understand what exactly is involved in this whole horcrux thing, or what sort of long-term damage it does to you, but it can't be good."

"I'm fully aware of the risks Harry, you do not have to concern yourself with this."

"But I do! You're important to me Tom! I love you for Merlin's sake! You're... you're the most important person in the world to me, and the thought of you hurting yourself for this is just... it tears me up inside. And knowing that if someone like Dumbledore manages to get a hold of one of these objects and destroy it means that a piece of _your soul_ is destroyed... I just..." Harry huffed out in frustration and roughly carded his hand through his hair. "I just don't like it, Tom. It worries me."

Tom looked at Harry for a very long, silent moment, with an unreadable expression on his face. Suddenly he stood from his chair, took two long strides forward and sat down beside Harry on the lounge. With a natural fluidity that only came with two people who had truly grown utterly comfortable with each other, Tom wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders, and Harry melted into Tom's side and buried his face into the elder wizard's neck.

"Don't worry yourself over this Harry," Tom said in a soft voice.

"I can't help it."

"I won't make any new horcruxes for the time being, alright?"

Harry nodded his head, keeping his face pressed against Tom's neck and shoulder. "What about the ring?" he mumbled.

"We'll go after it if an opportunity arises." Tom said gently before bringing his hands to rest on Harry's shoulders and pushing the teen a bit away from him so he could look into his bright green eyes. "I want you to promise me that you will not do anything reckless in attempt to retrieve it."

"Tom, I –"

"No, promise me!"

Harry held Tom's intense gaze for several long seconds before he sighed, sagged slightly and nodded his head. "I promise."

"Good."

"But I still need to try to do _something_. I can't just sit back and not even _try."_ Harry insisted desperately.

Tom nodded his head and looked, unfocused, across the room for a moment. "There is a spell I saw mentioned in one of Slytherin's parselmagic books you copied for me from the Chamber. I know that the spell in question is described in length in one of the other books that still resides within the Chamber. I had skimmed it once back when I was a student but that was just before Dumbledore began to suspect the location of the Chamber and my trips down there, so I was unable to frequently return after that."

"So you want me to get this book for you? What's the spell do?"

"From what I have gathered from the description, it is a very powerful stealth spell. It allows the parselmage to phase slightly out of normal space. It leaves them completely invisible to others, and allows them to pass through most walls and doors – although some highly powerful wards will still prevent their passage. You cannot directly interact with physical objects while phased, you will pass straight through them. In order to pick something up or move something, you would have to cancel the spell and unphase, thus revealing yourself. But it would still be incredibly useful for both spying, and for sneaking into places you wouldn't normally be able to enter."

"Like Dumbledore's office," Harry said with wide, excited eyes.

"Exactly." Tom said with a smirk. "Once you retrieve the book, you and I will work on learning the spell and you can practice during your days here at the manor when not in meetings or dealing with other matters. I also intend to try and create a replica of the ring that can be left as a substitute decoy."

"Won't Dumbledore notice that the decoy is not a horcrux though?"

"I have no doubt that all of Dumbledore's knowledge on horcruxes is purely hypothetical, and I doubt he ever had access to the same manuscripts that I came across in my journeys. In fact, I'm quite sure I know exactly which books he _did_ have access to, and they would tell him very little as to what exactly to expect in response to destroying the horcrux's vessel. I'm convinced I can sufficiently simulate the reaction he would be expecting. I can recreate the same layers of protections that I applied to my horcruxes, only without the actual horcrux to protect. In the end, it may still fail at fully convincing him, but the possibility remains that it may work. If nothing else, it will at least buy us some time."

Harry nodded his head, feeling a bit better knowing that there was at least some sort of plan in the works.

Tom's hands came up and cupped Harry's face, tilting it upwards and peering down into Harry's eyes intensely. "You look absolutely exhausted." Tom remarked with a slightly concerned edge to his voice.

Harry shrugged one shoulder and averted his eyes slightly. "I'm fine," he mumbled.

Tom sighed and stood up, pulling Harry with him. "Let's retire to the bedroom. I suspect we could both use a good night's sleep."

Harry gave Tom a small smile and followed him out of the study, up the stairs and into their bedroom. Tom stood before Harry and began to work at removing the younger wizard's school robes. Releasing the clasp, and then working loose the red and gold striped tie, grimacing at it slightly and causing Harry to chuckle.

"Never thought you'd end up with a Gryffindor, did you?" Harry whispered in amusement.

Tom snorted and continued to disrobe the younger wizard. The black robes were soon removed, followed by the white button-down shirt beneath them.

_*begin lemon*_

Harry's hand stretched out and began to undo the small clasps that held together Tom's outer robes and then began to work at the buttons of his high, straight-necked, black silk shirt. Harry's shirt was off first and Tom's hands began to slowly and sensuously explore his pale flesh while Harry's breathing became shallow and he rushed a bit to finish his work on Tom's shirt. Finally, he pushed it back over Tom's shoulders, allowing it to fall to the floor in a puddle of soft, fine, fabric.

Harry's eyes hungrily drank in the sight of Tom standing before him. His flesh was toned and sculpted, flawlessly. He wasn't overly muscled at all. He was just _perfect_.

_And he's all mine..._ Harry thought to himself and a pleased smirk graced his lips.

Tom raised a single questioning eyebrow down at Harry; no doubt sensing the possessive nature of Harry's emotions over the link. Harry just smiled up at the man, wrapped his arms around Tom's neck and pulled himself up so that their lips could meet.

The kiss was slow and sensual at first, growing in depth and desire as their tongues began to battle for dominance. Harry usually allowed Tom to win these battles, but for some reason he didn't want to this time.

His hands began to explore Tom's pale chest while Tom's hands ghosted up and down Harry's back before going down and cupping Harry's rear. He pulled Harry close, melding them together and brushing their erections together. Harry groaned hungrily into Tom's mouth and his hands became more desperate as his need grew.

Harry pulled back suddenly, and Tom actually growled lightly at the sudden loss. Harry smirked up at him devilishly and began to walk backwards towards the bed.

"I want to try something a little different tonight," Harry whispered.

Tom's eyebrows rose in mild surprise, but it was quickly replaced with lustful curiosity.

"Is that so? And what exactly have you got in mind?" Tom asked, huskily.

Harry's grin widened and he wiggled his finger to draw Tom closer. His interest obviously sparked, Tom complied, coming to stand directly before Harry, who then guided him to turn around so he back was facing the bed.

With a sudden shove, Tom was pushed back onto the bed. His eyes widened minutely, but there was also an inferno of burning desire beginning to blaze behind them. Tom acquiesced as Harry pushed him so that he would scoot further back onto the bed, and raised his hips into the air as Harry began to remove his slacks and boxer-briefs.

Tom's erection sprung free and Harry felt his desire and arousal spike dramatically at the sight of it. Every part of Tom's body was beautiful, and Harry was of the opinion that his cock was one of the most enticing parts. Harry moaned slightly at the sight of the mostly clear precum leaking from the top and quickly moved to straddle the older wizard.

"You're still clothed," Tom growled as his hands came up and grabbed Harry's hips.

"All in good time," Harry responded, looking up and meeting Tom's eyes for a moment and smirking, despite the heavy desire clouding his face.

Tom narrowed his eyes but nodded his head.

Harry ducked his head and began to kiss, suck, and nip at every exposed inch of Tom's neck, collar, and chest. His circled his tongue around Tom's nipples, played with them, and nibbled his way down Tom's ribs, all while slowly grinding himself against Tom's exposed erection, earning him some utterly maddening and delicious sounds, growls, and hisses, in response. Finally, he worked his way down, shifting his whole body and taking Tom into his mouth. The man's member was so perfect. The thickness to length ratio was just right. It was ridiculous that Harry could feel so attracted to a single portion of Tom's anatomy, but it didn't bother him any. He knew Tom was quite fond of his, as well.

He swirled his tongue around it, playing with the front of the head, and then the slit before taking it all in again and hallowing out his cheeks. Up and down he went in a steady, and maddeningly slow, rhythm, for several minutes.

_Enough foreplay,_ Tom hissed with an obvious air of sexual frustration and impatience in his voice.

Harry nodded his head, vigorously, as he was finally ready to admit that his own intense arousal was growing extremely painful with need.

Harry released Tom from his mouth with a _popping _sound, backed up off the bed, and a moment later had divested himself of his pants.

He straddled Tom again, came up and kissed him deeply. Tom's hands came up and buried themselves in Harry's hair, pulling and holding him close at the same time. Their bare cocks ground against each other for a few moments, winding the two of them up even further, and making both of them moan out in desperation.

Harry pulled back, panting heavily and looked down at Tom. They were both heavy lidded and intensely aroused. Harry grinned and with a flick of his wrist, wandlessly summoned the lube jar, a trick he'd picked up from Tom.

He scooted back down so he was straddling Tom's legs and the elder wizard eyed him warily for a moment but did not say anything.

Harry dipped his fingers into the lube and began to coat Tom's cock. His eyes glance back up to meet with Tom's as he felt the tiniest prickle of relief travel over the link. He wondered for a moment if Tom ever would be willing to bottom for him, but pushed the thought aside as something to explore much, much later in their relationship.

Tom sat up slightly and reached for the jar, making Harry blink in surprise but he relinquished it. Tom coated his fingers, reached around and began to slowly prep Harry, more directly. The angle was poor for deep penetration, but it was more than enough stimulation considering how exceedingly aroused Harry already was. His back arched slightly and his head fell back on his shoulders as a low moan escaped his throat as he felt Tom's long agile fingers probing his insides and spreading the lubricant.

Finally, Harry let out an impatient groan of his own and pushed Tom back down onto the bed. The elder wizard looked up at him and smirked at the hunger in Harry's eyes.

Harry shifted himself higher, positioning Tom's member at his entrance before crashing down upon it, impaling himself. He called out in shock at the intense, glorious, sudden sensations of pleasure and pain that shot through him. Tom gasped slightly in pleasured shock as well, and his hands came to grip on each side of Harry's hips, guiding him up and down, and holding tightly as Harry began a quick rhythm.

The two were moaning and panting, and hissing quiet unintelligible words, as their pleasure grew exponentially, and they felt the powerful waves of their combined magic swirling around them.

Each peak of pleasure was more intense than the last. Each nerve was on fire. The coil, deep inside the base of Harry's gut was winding tighter and tighter, and his cock was rock solid, and so insanely sensitive. He continued to move up and down on Tom's member, his voice getting louder and more desperate with each sequential movement. Tom began thrusting his hips up in time with Harry's movement and the two were practically screaming in pleasure when Tom's hand released Harry's hip and grabbed hold of his straining member instead.

Two quick strokes and both of their worlds exploded with lights and pleasure. Wave after wave of jerking, spasms of bliss flooded their systems.

Harry felt his body jerking involuntarily for several moments before he collapsed onto Tom's chest, pinning his still throbbing cock between them, and twitching slightly with the aftershocks of his intense orgasm. Even cool, calm and collected, Tom, continued to shake for several minutes with the intensity of it all. A moment after everything had settled down, Harry felt and heard Tom sigh in contentment, and wrap his arms around Harry's shoulders. Tom shifted his hips and slid out of Harry's backside, causing the younger wizard to whimper slightly at the loss.

Tom held Harry there for a moment before flicking his hand and summoning his wand into it. With a few quick swishes, they were cleaned up and the covers that were beneath them suddenly vanished and reappeared over-top of them instead. Another wave of Tom's hand and the wand flew back to the bedside table and he used his now free hand to pull the covers up over Harry's shoulders.

Harry hummed happily and shifted his body so that he was only lying partially on Tom's side, with his head resting in the crook of Tom's neck.

"Love you, Tom," Harry mumbled sleepily.

Tom chuckled. "I love you too, Harry."

Harry opened his drooping eyes and rose his head just enough so that the two of them could meet eyes. He gave Tom a wide, appreciative, yet soft, smile that conveyed without words, just how grateful he was that Tom was finally willing to say it back.

Tom gave him a smile in return and bent his head down and gently kissed Harry's forehead.

"Go to sleep. You've had a long day." Tom ordered, softly.

Harry chuckled and let his head fall back onto Tom's shoulder. Moments later, he easily slipped into unconsciousness.

– –


	17. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary: Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta Pass by tanne

AN:

– –

Chapter 16

September 1st at the manor passed far too quickly for Harry's tastes. It included one meeting with Voldemort and a small group of Death Eaters, and a training session with the Intermediate group that evening. Before he knew it, it was just after 10:30pm, which was just about the same time that Harry had began to sneak out of Hogwarts his first go at September 1st. Harry waited until the moment he felt the shift in the manor wards that signified that he had just portkeyed in. He stood at the top of the stairs and listened as his previous self hissed open the door to the time-turner room, and the soft click of the door shutting behind him. A moment later, he felt the presence of his earlier self vanish from the manor, and knew that he had just gone back 24-hours.

Harry then sighed and made his way down the stairs into the entry hall. He pulled the left sleeve of his school robes up, exposing the portkey, and activated it. A moment later, he found himself back in the Honeydukes tunnel and began to make his way back to the school, all the while muttering about how convoluted the process was, and wondering how he'd manage to keep track of it all, and maintain his sanity.

About ten minutes after re-entering the castle, he met back up with Hermione, and the two returned to Gryffindor Tower.

Harry entered the 5th year's dorm room and gave a heavy sigh at the sight of his bed. It wasn't a bad bed. It was leagues above the ratty thing he'd had to sleep on at Grimmauld Place. It was a double-sized, four-poster bed with beautiful red-velvet hangings, fine sheets, and overstuffed pillows and a thick, heavy, comforter. However, it wasn't _his_ bed, and it didn't have Tom in it.

He didn't have the locket to sleep with anymore, and he knew he had to keep his mind mostly closed off from Tom simply to maintain his own sanity. Tom would be with his other self right about now, and he knew it would be pure torture to experience Tom's lust, desire, or pleasure, not to mention any other emotions, while he was trapped at Hogwarts.

It was something that he and Tom had discussed as a part of Harry living every day twice in two separate places. Such constant and drastic time manipulation could be risky if not handled delicately. Harry would need to keep himself completely cut off from Tom during his days at Hogwarts, and could never let any information about the future slip to Tom when he was in the manor. It was a precaution that needed to be taken for multiple reasons.

With heavy feet, Harry made his way over to his trunk, opened it, and pulled out some pajama pants.

His dorm mates were already all asleep – they also having been exhausted from the long day of traveling, and not having the responsibilities of a prefect to keep them up the extra hour. Harry climbed into bed, drew the hangings around his bed, and went to sleep.

–

Harry tried not to groan too loudly as he woke up in an empty bed. He tried to remind himself that this was still a thousand times preferable to waking up at Grimmauld place and that the following evening, he'd be back in bed with Tom.

He showered and then went through his standard bathroom routine, using several very handy charms Tom had taught him over the summer to magically shave, brush his teeth, and style his hair. It wasn't slicked back, but his long chin-length fringe was now styled up around his forehead and back behind his ears, while the rest lay loose, just beginning to brush his shoulders.

He removed his glasses and cleaned them on his robes before putting them back onto his face and pushing them slightly up his nose. He frowned at his reflection, debating for the nth time just getting rid of the damn things. Tom had never had poor eye sight so he had never, personally, had to investigate in any corrective eye magic, but he knew there were a couple different procedures that could achieve the goal. Harry had just been so busy that summer that he hadn't gotten around to it at all. Finally, he sighed and shoved the thought to the back of his head to deal with another time.

He exited the bathroom and re-entered his dorm room just as Ron was groggily waking up. He didn't yet know what his timetable would look like, but his book bag was feather light and had an expansion charm, so it was possible for him to actually take _all_ of his class books with him, and since he had no desire to return to Gryffindor Tower between breakfast and his first class, he did just that.

He told Ron he was heading down and didn't wait for a response before leaving. He passed Hermione as he walked through the common room, and when it became obvious that he wasn't going to stand around waiting for Ron, she scurried after him.

The two made their way down to the Great Hall with minimal conversation. Harry really wasn't particularly interested in making small talk at the moment, and Hermione seemed to sense that.

After entering the hall and sitting down at the Gryffindor table, Harry eyed the pitcher of pumpkin juice in front of him and grimaced. Hermione began to pile a few bits of food onto her plate before pouring herself a cup of juice. She looked over at Harry with a questioning gaze as she made a motion with the juice pitcher, silently asking if she should pour him a glass as well. He shook his head as he pulled out a scrap of parchment and a charmed quill that didn't need an ink well. He scribbled something onto the parchment, waved his wand over it, and it vanished.

"Harry... what are you doing?" Hermione asked, looking at him with a bewildered expression.

Harry held up a finger to tell her to wait, and an instant later, a steaming pot of coffee and an empty mug appeared in front of him. He sighed in relief and smiled as he poured himself a cup and added some cream.

Hermione just blinked at him, dumbfounded.

"Harry, what was that?"

"I sent a request to the elves," Harry said with a small shrug as he took a slow sip from his creamy-looking coffee.

"Harry!" Hermione said in a scandalized tone. "It is not right to take advantage of them, when they're already terribly overworked and –"

"Hermione, do you even know anything about the origin of house elves?" Harry asked, cutting her off.

Hermione's brow furrowed and she opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off yet again by Professor McGonagall showing up and giving them each their schedules. Harry quickly began to read over his schedule while aimlessly stuffing a few forkfuls of scrambled eggs into his mouth.

Suddenly he heard a rather insistent-sounding 'eh-hem' from Hermione and looked up. She was giving him an impatient and expectant look.

"What?" Harry asked,

"House elves!" she growled.

"Oh! Right."

"What did you mean about the origin of house elves?" she asked.

"Well, I don't know a lot of the details, but I'm sure you could just _ask_ one of them and they'll explain it in more detail... Anyway, the house elves we have today are descendants from a clan of elves that turned against their own kind and openly fought against the High Council of the Alder Elves during the Tartessian War. For betraying their own species and choosing to side with the humans, they were punished by the High Council by having their magic permanently bound to the human wizards they had sided with, and they were denied the opportunity to move on and relocate with the rest of the elves when they all left. The new race of 'house-elves'now and forever would have to serve a wizard master, or else their magic will slowly kill them. If they go without a master to serve for too long, they _die_."

Hermione gasped. "That's awful!"

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, kind of sucks to have to pay for the sins of your ancestors, but they've developed a culture around their plight. They _want_ to serve wizards. As long as they're treated with respect, they thoroughly enjoy their jobs and their lives. That's why the house elves don't want to be set 'free'. If they're set free, that means their unbonded, and their magic will slowly start to kill them. Honestly, I worry a bit about Dobby and Winky. I think they're 'employed' at Hogwarts, but they're not bonded, so I don't think they're safe right now.

"But the Hogwarts house elves who are bonded all seem extremely happy with their lives here. They live to serve the students and it actually thrills them to receive requests. If you want to brighten up their day, attach a note to your empty plates or fold it through the prongs of your fork with a little 'thank you'. They'll probably be so overjoyed, they'll faint when they read it." Harry chuckled and began to eat a piece of bacon while returning his attention to his timetable.

Ron showed up a moment later and McGonagall came over and gave him his timetable.

"Ugh... History of Magic and then Potions on Monday mornings?" Ron groaned as he looked his over. "And Divination after lunch... which _you_ don't have to worry about – bloody wanker..." Ron grumbled bitterly at Harry, who just smirked back. "Followed by Defense in the afternoon and then dinner."

Hermione seemed to get pulled out of her deep thoughts on the plight of house elves by Ron's words and she suddenly began looking over her timetable as well.

"Mine is the same, except, of course, instead of Divination, I've got Ancient Runes," Hermione said.

Harry hummed in response, but didn't describe his schedule to them. Harry's schedule wasn't _quite_ the same as theirs for Monday. His would start with History as well, but for second block he had both Potions with his own year mates, and Ancient Runes with the 4th years. Both of these classes were at the same time, so he would have to use his student time-turner for that. After lunch, he had Arithmancy with the 4th years, and then Defense with Ron and Hermione. He was looking forward to Defense, since he knew Thor would undoubtedly be a brilliant teacher.

–

History was as mind-numbing as ever, and Harry spent most of the class plotting different ways he could get the worthless ghost of a professor sacked. He wondered if Tom knew any spells for banishing the man's soul from the plane of the living. Sort of forcing him to 'move on'. He knew Tom had dabbled in Necromancy in his twenties, but the man had really only gone so far as to learn how to reanimate corpses in order to make his own army of inferi, and hadn't bothered to go much further than that.

After History, Harry followed Ron and Hermione down to the dungeons, having decided to use his time-turner to go back to attend Runes after he was through with Snape's class, but before lunch.

As had come to be expected, the Gryffindors were once again taking Potions with the Slytherins. Harry's eyes met for only a brief moment with Draco's as the group of students stood gathered outside the door to the Potions classroom. Draco didn't quite seem to know what to make of him and quickly diverted his eyes as subtly as he could manage, and instead, continued to drawl on about something or another he'd done over the summer to Pansy Parkinson who seemed to be hanging onto his every word as if it were her lifeblood.

Harry snickered and turned back to face Ron and Hermione just as the door to the classroom was thrown open with a deafening _Bang!_ and Snape stood there, sneering at the group of fifth years, disdainfully.

"Get in here," he hissed before spinning around and quickly striding back inside; his black robes billowing dramatically behind him. As he reached the front of the class, and the students began to pour in and find seats he quickly spat out, "_Don't sit down yet!"_

The students paused, and a couple who had already sat, stood back up, waiting with confused looks on their faces.

"This year the lot of you will each have an assigned partner." Snape began and suddenly the room was filled with whispered groans and murmurs, that were instantly cut off by a sharp glare from Snape. "You're partner will remain the same the entire term. You will be preparing more and more complicated and _dangerous_ potions as you prepare for your OWLs, and it will be necessary that you come to know your partner's techniques, skill level, and _deficiencies_. I will also make sure that for every despicable failure, there is at least one person in each group competent in the subtle arts of brewing. I do not want any catastrophes caused because _someone_," at this point he glared at Neville Longbottom, "was too incompetent to follow simple instructions."

He turned slightly and grabbed a roll of parchment off his desk. "As I read your name, you will take your seat at a table with your assigned partner."

Snape quickly began to read through the list of names, and it became obvious – much to the horror of the Slytherins and the disgust of the Gryffindors – that each pair included one member from each house. A Slytherin and a Gryffindor. The only inconsistency with this was that he paired Hermione with Neville – apparently he wasn't willing to force any of his snakes to endure the horror that was being Neville Longbottom's partner for a whole year – and as a result of this, he also put Tracy Davis with Vincent Crabbe, clearly, much to Davis' disdain if her expression was anything to go by.

When Harry's name was called, it was immediately followed by Draco Malfoy.

By the look of surprise on Malfoy's face, he clearly did not know this was coming ahead of time. Harry wondered what exactly Snape's motives were for doing this, but suspected it was to give Harry a reasonable excuse should Harry and Draco ever be seen together for some reason, outside of classes. If anyone ever questioned Harry about why he was talking with Draco, and apparently, _not hexing him_, he could always claim it was something to do with their Potions class.

For the sake of keeping up appearances, Harry grimaced and trudged over to his new table with an obvious air of disgust and frustration. Ron, who was partnered with Daphne Greengrass, gave Harry a sympathetic look.

The class actually passed without any serious incident. Hermione successfully managed to prevent Neville from blowing anything up, although by the end of the lesson she looked a bit frazzled and stressed. Harry had seen her just _barely_ catch a couple of his almost-mistakes, narrowly avoiding catastrophe. Harry did not envy Hermione one bit.

He and Draco spoke to each other as little as possible during the class, and the two openly glared and/or sneered at each other for the sake of appearances. Draco seemed to easily slip back into their old relationship, obviously feeling much more comfortable with acting that way towards Harry than the sort of awkward-limbo their interactions had been in since Harry's shift in loyalties.

Finally, after an hour and a half, the class was over and Harry, Hermione and Ron left the classroom together. Ron began to rant and rave about something or another, while Hermione played the voice of reason and pointed out the flaws in his logic. While they were thoroughly distracted, Harry slipped away from them, into an empty dungeon room, and quickly used his time-turner to go back two hours. He made his way through the halls, up the grand staircase, and found his way to Professor Babbling's Ancient Runes classroom. He got there with about fifteen minutes to spare before class would start but the door was open and there wasn't a class already inside.

Harry made his way inside and found himself a seat. He pulled out the assigned textbook for the second section of Ancient Runes and began to skim the first chapter again to refresh his memory. He'd referenced this book a few times over the summer, but mostly he'd stuck with the books Tom had picked out. This book wasn't _bad_ by any means, but he still felt that Tom's were better.

But Tom's were out of print, so he could certainly understand the teacher's choice to go with this book instead.

Before Harry even realized how much time had passed, the chair directly to his right was being pulled out and down sat Luna Lovegood. Harry raised his head from his book and blinked at the girl before giving her a small smile.

"Hello, Luna," Harry said.

"Hullo."

A moment later, Ginny came into the room and sat at the desk left of him, across the aisle.

"Hello, Harry," Ginny said, sporting a wide grin.

Harry smiled back. "Hi, Gin."

The class filled in quickly. It wasn't a large class. Only eleven students, counting Harry, spread out from all four houses. They were all shooting confused looks at Harry, and there was quite a bit of quiet whispering among the others as they pondered his presence, but no one seemed to have the guts to just come out and ask him why he was there.

Finally, the bells chimed throughout the castle, marking the start of class and Professor Bathsheda Babbling walked into the room and came to stand behind a podium she had set up at the front of the room beside a large wooden desk.

"Good morning, class," she said with a wide grin. "Welcome to your second year of Ancient Runes! I do hope that you haven't all forgotten everything I tried to teach you last year," she chuckled. "As I'm sure some of you have noticed, we have a new face in our class this year. Mr. Potter decided to change his electives, deciding that taking Ancient Runes would serve him better in life than simply taking Divination."

The smug look on her face made it clear that she didn't have a very high opinion of Sybil Trelawney's class either, and a couple of the students chuckled quietly.

"Mr. Potter self-studied Runes on his own and took a placement exam during the summer to prove he was up to spec to participate in the second section of this class, rather than go in with the third years. Please welcome him to our class. I'm sure we can all help make him feel at home."

Understanding dawned on everyone's faces as everything was explained to them, and soon enough Professor Babbling began lecturing on review from the previous term and any oddness of Harry's presence there was quickly forgotten.

Once class ended, Harry, Ginny, and Luna left to make their way to the Great Hall for Lunch, walking together, and discussing the assigned class work. Professor Babbling had given them all a syllabus describing her plans for the entire term, including a couple large group projects that Harry thought sounded interesting.

They were going to be creating some sort of magical objects from nonmagical objects, by inscribing them with the proper runes and casting permanent charms. It was up to the students to decide what their objects would be, or what they would end up doing. They still had about a month and a half before they would even have to start on the first one though.

The three walked into the Great Hall and Luna split off and made her way to the Ravenclaw table while Harry and Ginny went over to the Gryffindor table. They'd been sitting down for about a minute when Ron and Hermione walked in. Hermione did a bit of a double-take seeing Harry already sitting down, and then looking behind her in confusion.

"Harry? Wait, I thought you were..." she trailed off, confusion laced in her voice and her eyes. Harry just chuckled, wondering how long it would take her to connect the dots.

"Hey mate," Ron said, also looking a bit confused, but sitting down and soon becoming too focused on the food in front of him to actually question Harry.

Hermione didn't seem nearly as easily distracted, but she did slowly begin to put some food onto her plate, shooting curious glances at Harry and Ginny all the while. Harry and Ginny, however, just kept on going with their earlier discussion about what sort of object they could try to make. Finally, Ginny turned to Hermione with a look of sudden realization on her face.

"Oh! You're in your third year of Runes, right?" Ginny asked.

Hermione blinked and smiled. "Yes, it's one of my absolute favorite subjects."

"What sort of magical objects did you make last year?"

"Oh, well, I was paired with Sarah Fawcett of Ravenclaw for that and for our first magical object we took a quill and put in tiny inscriptions along the center that made it so it would never run out of ink and would automatically perform spelling corrections, which was actually far more complicated to accomplish then it seems like it should be. For the second object we had to make we actually sewed runes into our robes that would automatically resize them as we grew, make them impervious to stains, even from ink, and runes to prevent them from ever wrinkling."

"That's not bad at all..." Ginny said, humming appreciatively. "Harry, Luna, and I are grouping together for our projects and we've been discussing different ideas since class ended."

"Wait, how is that even possible?" Hermione asked, looking confused.

"We've got an odd number in the class now that Harry's joined, so the three of us were allowed to work together." Ginny answered.

"No, not that. I meant about the Runes class. When did you have class with Harry? He had History with us in first block and..." Hermione trailed off at the sharp look from Harry, and the slightly frantically waving hands from just beyond Ginny's view.

Hermione looked over at him with narrowed eyes. Harry huffed silently and reached down, pulling the chain that hung around his neck up just enough for the top of the time-turner to appear at his collar. Hermione's eyes opened and realization suddenly dawned on her. Her mouth opened for a moment before she snapped it shut and she gave a forced smile to Ginny to try and mask her almost slip.

"Never mind." Hermione said quickly. "I was just confused."

Ginny raised a single curious and confused eyebrow but shook her head, apparently having decided that Hermione was just being a bit barmy and disregarding the whole thing. Ron remained blissfully ignorant of the entire exchange, as he had been too focused on his food to pay them any mind.

–

Arithmancy with the forth years was during third block. Ron grumbled as he made his way up towards Trelawney's tower for Divination, and Hermione headed to her Ancient Runes class with the rest of the fifth years, while Harry and Ginny met back up with Luna again and the three of them headed to the Arithmancy classroom on the second floor.

The class passed without serious incident. Most of the people taking Arithmancy were the same ones in Runes, so they weren't quite so bewildered by Harry's presence there.

Again, the professor – Professor Vector – spent a moment to explain why Harry had joined their class, and then handed out syllabi's to everyone before spending half the class explaining how the rest of the year would progress. The first month would be revision and homework to practice the basic equations they'd all learned the previous year to make sure they hadn't gone and forgotten their fundamentals. After that, they would begin alternating between assignment worksheets of Arithmancy equations, and actual practical assignments, putting all that theory and maths into practice in common magical situations.

Arithmancy played a large role in spell creation, and second term would focus a lot on understanding the fundamentals of how that worked.

Harry was actually enthusiastic, despite the headache he had at the end of class from the sheer quantity of different theorems and equations he had to memorize.

–

After Arithmancy Harry had Defense and met up with Ron and Hermione on the way there. Ron spent the entire journey to the Defense classroom muttering and complaining about how barmy Trelawney was, and how he wished his mum would have let him drop the subject like Harry had. Hermione promptly pointed out that Harry hadn't just _dropped_ Divination, he had picked up another class – a _harder _class – in its stead. Ron had scowled but continued to mutter quietly until they got into the Defense class and took their seats towards the front.

"So what do you think might be wrong with this one?" Ron whispered quietly once they'd gotten seated.

"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked, exasperatedly.

"The Defense teacher. I mean, everyone knows the job's cursed. Hell even Moody, who looked like he was gonna be alright, ended up dying over the summer."

"Moody dying had nothing to do with him being the Defense professor." Hermione hissed.

"I don't know, 'Mione. They said he died from a heart attack, didn't they?" Ron continued. "Awfully weird for a wizard his age to die from a heart attack."

"He was an Auror for decades though," Harry pointed out. "He was a right mess from it too. He'd been hit with so many dark curses and spells that he'd lost a leg, his eye, most of his nose, and his face was so scarred and messed up you could hardly imagine what he looked like before. No doubt all that action he'd seen over the years wasn't exactly good for his health."

"Exactly," Hermione said, nodding her head.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Whatever. But you can't deny that the Defense position is cursed. First year we get Quirrell who actually _dies_ at the end of term, and was possessed by _You-Know-Who_. Second year we get that idiot, Lockhart, and at the end of the year he ends up obliviating himself. Third year we get Lupin, and while he's great an' all, by the end of the year his being a werewolf gets exposed to the public and now he can't get a job _anywhere_. Forth we get Moody, and he was just plain _mad_, and just after the end of term, he's found dead in his home from a heart attack!"

Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes, but didn't present a counter argument.

"Charlie and Bill say that all their defense teachers had it just as bad, so it's not like it started with us. This has been going on for _ages!"_ Ron continued. "So what do you think will happen with this one?" Ron finished, smirking.

"Hopefully, nothing," a heavy, rough, voice emerged from behind them, causing Ron to jump and _squeak_ lightly. Harry had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

Thorfinn Rowle walked in down the center aisle of the room and came to stand at the front where he had a single podium setup, atop a wide, low stage that filled the front portion of the classroom.

Harry took in Thor with a small grin. The man's appearance didn't exactly scream 'teacher' to him. Of course Thor's face had always sort of screamed 'drill sergeant' to Harry. He was wearing a set of professional looking gray robes on his large, stocky form. His pants looked like gray tweed, while his undershirt was a darker gray cotton with a high straight neck that looked somewhat odd considering the man had such a thick, short, neck. He had an open-front over robe on with long sleeves, and tails that only went down to about mid-hip instead of dragging all the way on the floor like most of the other teachers. Harry knew it was for mobility.

Admittedly, it was Thor's square face, strong jaw, and short, cropped, blond hair, that probably played the largest role in his 'drill sergeant' look. A quick glance around at his fellow students told Harry that they were all equally impressed and intimidated by the man's appearance.

"Good afternoon everyone. Welcome to OWL-level Magical Defense. I'm your new Professor, Thorfinn Rowle. You will refer to me as Professor Rowle. Not just _Rowle_, as I'm sure some of you will feel inclined to do.

"I have the heavy task of making sure that the lot of you are actually up to expectations and properly prepared for taking your Defense OWLs in the spring. Taking into consideration the inconsistent nature of your previous education in this subject, I anticipate this being quite difficult. This class will not be easy. I will push you and work you to the bone, and I will expect your full focus and dedication, and that you truly put forth an effort. I cannot help you if you do not help yourself.

"Because of the importance of this subject, not only in your overall education, but also in life, I will not stand for any troublemakers in my class. Doing so is a disruption to the learning of your peers and is not only a disservice to yourself and disrespectful to me as your teacher, but also rude and inconsiderate to your fellow classmates who are actually trying to learn. Anyone who consistently fails to actually _try_ in my class; who brings down the learning of everyone around them; or who constantly disrupts the lessons, will be given the boot. I don't have time to put up with you, and your fellow students shouldn't have to suffer because of you. Consider this your warning."

Thor paused in his speech and looked out over the room of silent students, all watching him with wide eyes.

"I will be doing something a bit unusual this school year in an attempt to get everyone forth year and up where they're supposed to be academically. I will be running two extracurricular classes. Defense clubs, of a sort. They will be optional and the advanced one will be by invitation only. They will be for those students who are truly passionate about mastering Defensive Magic, and who are willing and interested in sacrificing their personal time in order to further improve themselves.

"I will be spending the first two weeks of term observing all of my students to determine who needs the most assistance, and who are up to the proper level already to get invited to the advanced group."

Harry shot a brief side-along glance at Hermione and could see from her stiff back and the bright look in her eyes that she was desperate to prove that she was good enough to get invited to the exclusive, invitation-only, defense club. Harry knew she wouldn't be though, and wondered how flustered that was going to make her.

After that, Thor began to describe what exactly the Ministry expected OWL-level wizards to know, as far as defensive magic was concerned. Then he went on to explain what _he_ thought they should already know by now, and what he intended for them to know by the end of the year.

A brief glance at the room's occupants was all that was necessary to tell that quite a few of them felt overwhelmed by all of this.

Thor lectured for a while before assigning them a reading and an essay due at their next class on Thursday.

–

Forth block ended at 4:30 in the afternoon, so Harry had two and a half hours until dinner. He spent it in the common room with his 'friends' working on the homework already assigned. Dinner, and the evening hours beyond it, passed in a blur and finally 9:30pm arrived and it was time for Harry and Hermione to do their prefect rounds. By 10:30pm, Harry was in the tunnel to the cellar of Honeydukes, just outside the castles wards. He activated the portkey and was transported to Riddle Manor. He went straight into the time-turner room and went back 24-hours.

Just as he arrived in the past, he felt his other self portkeying out and knew it was now safe to exit. He made his way up the stairs to the study where Tom was already waiting. The elder wizard smirked at him as he came over and sunk down heavily onto the lounge and heaved a relieved sigh as he began to loosen the remove his neck tie.

"How was your first day of classes?" Tom asked.

"Good... exhausting, but good. Thor did brilliantly," Harry added with a grin.

"Of course," Tom replied with a dismissive wave of his hand as if he would have never expected anything less.

Harry sighed again as he let his head fall back onto the back of the lounge and Tom resumed whatever he had been working on when Harry had entered the room.

"You know, I was thinking about this whole 'living every day twice' thing." Harry said after a few minutes of silence.

"Yes?" Tom asked, still focused on his work.

"Well, I'm actually going to be aging twice as fast as everyone around me, because of this. With all this time-turner use, I'm going to end up living a year in the span that everyone else only lives half one."

"That's correct. I actually did the math, and you're sixteenth birthday is going to land around mid February." Tom replied easily, still intently focused on his work, and his quill scratching away at some parchment.

Harry sat up straighter looking at Tom with slightly wide eyes.

"Wow... that's sort of weird. Having my birthday in February... Do you know exactly which day?"

"Well, if you had turned fifteen on July 31st, and lived every day from September first onwards twice, you would turn 15 on February 14th."

Harry's eyes bugged out slightly. "Valentine's Day?"

Tom chuckled. "Yes, funny that. However, I don't think you actually did turn 15 on July 31st. You turned 15 about a week prior to that because of all the time-turner use you made last school year. So I would place your sixteenth birthday around February 11th or 12th."

Harry nodded his head slowly, taking it in. "And if I keep up this living every day twice then, I'll actually be hitting seventeen next summer."

"Yes, it's unfortunate that it won't be legally recognized. Your trace would have disappeared when you actually, _biologically _turned seventeen, this next summer, however your trace is already gone, so that is meaningless. You'll still have to wait until you turn seventeen on paper before the Ministry will recognize you as an adult, or grant you an apparition license."

Harry rolled his eyes and sighed. "Well, that's lame."

"Yes, it is."

Harry chuckled.

–

The rest of the week progressed in much the same vein as the first 'day' had. Harry only had two classes on Tuesdays. Charms and Herbology, both in the morning. Third and fourth blocks were both free periods for him, and he used that time to continue working on his homework. He had wanted to slip away and get down to the Chamber during that time, but Hermione had stuck to him like glue and he hadn't had the opportunity.

Wednesday he had a free during first, Runes again during second, and then during third block after lunch, he had both Arithmancy and Transfiguration, overlapping. He'd gone to Transfiguration with Ron and Hermione first, and then used his student-issue time-turner to go back and meet up with Ginny and Luna to attend Arithmancy. That evening, Harry had Astronomy, which actually cut into his prefect rounds, but ended at 10pm so it didn't interrupt his schedule to visit the manor.

Thursday he had Charms and Herbology again, and then Defense in the afternoon. Friday was History, Potions, and Transfiguration.

Each night at 10:30pm, Harry would slip away to the tunnel, portkey back to the manor, use the 24-hour time turner to go back, and relive that day with Tom at the manor.

His routine at the manor was almost identical to what it had been during the summer, and it was a real mind-trip to alternate back and forth between a day at school and then a day back at the manor. He wondered how long it would take him to grow accustomed to it, or if he would just go crazy first.

He attended meetings, helped with planning, and continued his work assisting with the training sessions in the evenings.

The first truly surprising thing happened on Friday afternoon when Harry was making his way to the Gryffindor Common Room for his free fourth period, and he was stopped in the hall by some unknown third year who handed him a rolled up piece of parchment.

Ron and Hermione were with him, and obviously expected to be let in on whatever he'd been given, which he found rather annoying, especially since he had no idea who it was from.

Still, he was sure that Thor wouldn't get a hold of him by having some random student deliver him a scroll...

Harry broke the seal and unrolled it, instantly recognizing the long slanted script.

"Who's it from?" Ron asked.

"It's from Dumbledore," Harry responded with narrowed eyes as he read it over.

"What does he want?" Hermione asked with an obvious air of worry in her voice.

Harry glanced up at her and gave her an appreciative smile, legitimately thankful that she was willing and able to take Harry's mistrust of the man seriously enough to let go of some of her unwavering respect for the headmaster.

"He wants me to come to his office tonight after dinner. Says he has some important information to share with me." Harry said, as he looked back down at the short letter.

"You think it's about You-Know-Who?" Ron whispered in an urgent sort of tone.

Harry just shrugged. "Don't know. Guess I'll just have to go and find out."

"Are you sure you'll be alright in there alone with him?" Hermione asked, still looking worried.

Harry smiled at her again. "I'm pretty sure I'll be fine. My Occlumency shields are really strong and if he tries to mess with my head any, I'll know right away. I'll just make sure not to accept any lemon drops or tea, and keep my guard up."

"What's wrong with the lemon drops or tea?" Ron asked with a bewildered expression.

Hermione, however looked horrified. "Do you think he would tamper with them?"

"I hear the lemon drops are soaked in a calming drought," Harry said with a dismissive shrug."

"Where'd you hear that?" Ron asked.

Harry couldn't tell them that Snape had been the one to tell him, but...

"Professor Moody mentioned it towards the end of last year. He was also the one who warned me that Snape and Dumbledore both were masters at Legilimency."

That explanation seemed to be sufficient for them because they didn't question him further on it. Harry spent the rest of the afternoon and dinner wondering as to just what Dumbledore could be planning for this little meeting of theirs, and was feeling incredibly anxious by the time 8pm had rolled around and it was time for him to head for the Headmaster's office.

The summons had included a postscript mentioning Dumbledore's fondness for liquorish wands, and Harry took that to mean that was the password to get past the gargoyle. And it was. The gargoyle jumped aside as soon as he'd said it and he quickly climbed the moving spiral staircase and knocked on door. Dumbledore called him inside and Harry entered the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

"Ah, Harry. Thank you for coming to see me on such short notice." Dumbledore said with a genial smile as he motioned to the chair opposite his desk and Harry came and sat down in it.

Harry's eyes traveled around the room in a quick sweeping motion, taking in any potential dangers, and finally landing on Dumbledore's desk and widening minutely at what he saw there.

A large, stone pensieve.

Dumbledore picked up a bowl of lemon drops from his desk. "Lemon drop?" he asked.

Harry's eyes went from the bowl, to the blackened hand holding it. "No thanks, sir. Um... can I ask you what happened to your hand?"

"Ah, yes..." Dumbledore said slowly as he set the bowl back down and retracted his hand. Harry's eyes followed it and the ring – thankfully, still intact – until it disappeared behind the desk. "While I have some very important things to tell you this evening, and I have every intention of answering what questions you will ask of me, _that_ is a story for another time." Dumbledore said with a calm smile.

Harry nodded slowly, fighting the urge to scoff or sneer at the man and instead keeping his face mostly blank.

"Alright, Professor... can I ask what this is all about?"

"Yes, yes. Right to business, I suppose. It's probably for the best. I truly have put this off as long as I could..." Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and sighed heavily while he twisted his beard absently with his good hand. "Just over four years ago, you asked me a question. You and I were in the hospital wing and you had just woken up from your rather unfortunate encounter with Voldemort and Professor Quirrell. You said that you wanted to know the _truth_. A terrible and beautiful thing... I told you that I would answer your questions unless I had a very good reason not to, and at that time, I _did_ feel I had a good reason not to answer the question that you ended up choosing to ask me. You had asked me why Voldemort would want to kill _you_ in the first place. Yes?"

Harry's eyes widened slightly and he nodded his head. "That's correct, sir."

"I told you that when you were older – when you were _ready_ – I would tell you. And, while I still hate to do this when you are still so young, I realize now that I simply cannot keep it from you any longer. I realize that the trust between us had grown weak and that you need a sign of faith from me. And as such, I am going to tell you, Harry. I will now answer your questions."

Harry forced himself to swallow a thick lump and took on a look of hesitant anticipation. He had a pretty good idea of what was coming, and tried to imagine how his _old_ self would have reacted to it in order to put on a believable performance.

"First, I will have to begin my answer to your question with a story. About six months before you were even born, I was in the presence of a Seer at the exact moment that she made a Prophecy. Unfortunately, I was not the only one to witness her prophecy. The other person there was, _at that time_, one of Voldemort's Death Eaters. Voldemort's spy only witnessed the first few lines of the prophecy, but it was enough for him to take it back to Voldemort, and for him to then to determine who the prophecy most likely spoke of."

Harry swallowed again and nodded his head, as if to prod Dumbledore to continue.

"Now, Harry, are you familiar at all with a pensieve?" Dumbledore as he motioned towards the large basin sitting on the desk before him with intricate symbols etched around the outer edge.

"Um, I've read about them," Harry said, looking at it hesitantly. "You can store memories in them, right?"

"Correct. Not just _store_, but also _watch_. In fact, you can quite literally _experience_ it. Using this, you can personally witness the Prophecy, the same way that I witnessed it all those years ago."

Harry nodded his head heavily as he eyed the pensieve with trepidation.

"Will you join me for a trip to the past?" Dumbledore asked, standing to his feet and motioning towards the pensieve. Harry blinked and then jerked himself to his feet. Dumbledore pulled a small vial from his pocket and uncorked it. Then he poured a silvery liquid out of it and into the pensieve. He used his wand to swirl and mix the liquid memory in until it settled smoothly along the surface.

"Erm, okay. What do I do?" Harry asked, faking ignorance.

"You just place you face into the surface, like so," Dumbledore said, bending over and dipping his face into the silvery liquid. Harry quickly mimicked his actions and joined Dumbledore inside the pensieve. He was instantly overwhelmed with the sensation of falling a great distance. Without a moment's notice, he landed on his feet with a jerk. It was the same sensation one had when dreaming of falling and then suddenly waking.

He acted more shocked than he was. After all, he wasn't supposed to have experienced anything like this before. He intentionally let himself stumble a bit before centering his balance and looking around the space with a bewildered expression.

The pair of them was standing just outside the Hogshead pub and inn in Hogsmeade Village, late enough in the evening that it was quite dark out. A slightly younger-looking Dumbledore was walking down the road briskly and whistling a jaunty tune.

"Now before we enter the pub, I feel there is something of importance that I explain to you," the older Dumbledore explained to Harry. "You see, I had been searching for someone to fill the recently vacated post of Divination Professor at Hogwarts. A young witch by the name of Sybill Trelawney applied for the position and I had arranged to meet her here this night for a job interview."

Harry's eyes narrowed coldly at the blatant lie, but it was dim enough that Dumbledore couldn't see it.

"Now, if you will follow me inside," Dumbledore continued on, motioning with his hand just as his memory-self pulled open the door and stepped inside. Harry and Dumbledore followed behind him and spent the next twenty minutes observing the Prophecy memory from Dumbledore's point of view.

Having viewed the memory from Trelawney's own memories had been a different experience since her experience was clouded by the Imperius curse she had been placed under. Seeing the scene unfold from Dumbledore's point of view would give absolutely no indication that the entire thing had been staged. Had Harry not already known that this was all fake, and that a true Prophecy existed, but _this_ was most definitely _not _it, he would have had no reason to second guess anything that he had witnessed.

When the entire memory had played out and they were officially done, Dumbledore pulled them both out of the memory and they suddenly found themselves once again standing in Dumbledore's office beside his desk.

Harry sat down heavily in the chair, presenting a mask of shocked disbelief.

Dumbledore sat down and gave Harry a sad, regretful, expression.

"I am so very sorry that this burden had fallen upon your shoulders, before you were even born."

"So this is why he came after me? You said that his spy only heard a bit of it?"

"Yes, Harry. Only the first couple of lines. '_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies …' _But he did not hear the line after that. The line that stated '_the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not.' _I suspect that, had he heard that, he would have hesitated before coming after you so quickly."

Harry nodded his head slowly and kept his head bowed low and his eyes unfocused as if he was deep in thought and going over the lines of the Prophecy in his mind. In reality, deep inside, he was fuming and exerting a tremendous amount of will power to keep from screaming and raging at the manipulative old bastard sitting across the table from him.

"I suppose it all comes down to the last bit though, doesn't it?" Harry asked in a hard, flat tone.

"Ah, yes... _'either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives'." _Dumbledore recited in a low, grave, voice.

Harry flinched and bowed his head lower – mostly just to hide the hard, angry look in his eyes. "So I have to kill him then? Kill or be killed?"

Dumbledore heaved a heavy, defeated sigh and his face crumpled in despair. Harry's eyes narrowed as he looked up at his Headmaster, but he managed to keep the rest of his expression blank.

"Oh, dear boy... I truly am so, _very, very sorry..._" Dumbledore said. "This is far too great a burden to carry upon your shoulders. And one that you most certainly should not try to carry alone. It is absolutely imperative that as few people as possible be aware of the full contents of the Prophecy because Voldemort still wishes to learn it's full contents, however I will concede that it would likely be high beneficial to you if you were able to share this with your friends. You must, however, impart to them just how important it is that this remains secret."

Harry blinked at Dumbledore. He was honestly surprised that the old coot was actually suggesting he tell Ron and Hermione. _Ron_ especially, since the guy was so insanely unreliable and prone to bouts of immature jealousy and swings of public opinion.

"You're suggesting that I can tell Ron and Hermione?" Harry asked, just to make sure he truly understood the man.

"If you desire to do so. I think it would help. As I said, this is a tremendous burden for someone as young as you are, and it would only create a greater weight of stress and likely drive a heavy wedge between you and your friends, if you felt you had to hide this from those closest to you."

_Ah. So that was it._ A shared secret was a great way to bring people together. And, hiding a secret was a quick way to drive people apart. Dumbledore wanted a force that would help strengthen Harry's 'friendship' with Ron and Hermione. Inside, Harry smirked, suddenly.

"Can I tell Nick?" Harry asked, looking up at Dumbledore with hopeful, desperate eyes.

For an instant, Dumbledore's expression hardened, but it was instantly gone and the twinkle in his eyes returned. His grandfatherly smile was hesitant though. "I would ask that you think long and hard before you divulge this information to anyone, Harry. I know you have a great deal of trust and faith in your friend, but there are a great many things that we do not know about him."

"Actually, sir, _I_ know a great deal about him. I trust him with my life. I trust him more than I trust anyone else."

"Are you sure that is wise, Harry? Placing such a great deal of trust in someone –"

"I'm sure." Harry cut him off, rather sharply, but kept his expression mostly polite.

Dumbledore sighed and nodded his head. "I just ask that you be careful."

"I am. Constant vigilance, right?"

Dumbledore smiled, but it didn't entirely reach his eyes. Inside, Harry smirked.

"So, if I'm like... the chosen one or something, am I going to get special training? I mean, if I'm supposed to defeat Voldemort, I'm going to seriously need to up my dueling skill. And, what do you suppose this 'power he knows not' could be? I mean, I don't think I've come across any special super-powers, so do we have some way of maybe figuring out –"

"Now, now, let's not get ahead of ourselves, my dear boy." Dumbledore said with that grandfatherly smile and a gently raised hand to cut Harry off. "As it just so happens, I have a theory as to what the power is that you possess that Voldemort has absolutely no knowledge of at all."

Harry blinked at him, legitimately wondering what nonsense Dumbledore was about to start spouting now.

"It is my belief, Harry, that the power that you possess that Voldemort knows not, is the power of _love_,"Dumbledore said simply before sitting back in his chair with a calm, assured smile on his face.

Harry just stared at him blankly for a moment. "Love?" Harry echoed dully. "You think the power I have that will defeat Voldemort is... _Love._"

"I do." Dumbledore said with a very confident smile.

Harry wasn't sure if he should hit his head on the desk, or just _laugh._ Of all the ludicrous...

"Ohh–kay... So uhm... how can you be so sure that he doesn't 'know love'? You said it back in my first year too. That it's a foreign concept to him, or something, but how can you be so sure? And, how would I even use something like that to vanquish him? It sounds a bit... er... barmy, actually."

"Ah, but love is truly a most remarkable and mysterious thing. It was love, I believe, that saved you that night when Voldemort first came to kill you. Your mother's love and her sacrifice saved you from his curse."

Harry had to bite his tongue to keep from pointing out that he was fairly sure it was a carefully performed dark blood ritual requiring a willing life sacrifice, combined with the fluke coincidence of his mum and Tom being related by blood that had saved him and most certainly not _love_.

"And as for how I have come to know that Voldemort knows nothing of love – that would be years of experience, and having known him since he was a very young boy. This actually leads quite nicely into the next matter that I wish to discuss with you."

Harry sat up straighter in his chair, seemingly giving the man his full, rapt, attention. "Yes, sir?"

"I would ask that, in the coming months, you come to my office for – for lack of a better word – 'lessons'. What I wish to do is supply you with the information that I believe you will need in order to defeat Voldemort. Will you be willing to do this?"

"Of course, sir!" Harry exclaimed, eagerly nodding his head.

"Good, good! Well, I believe that I have kept you here long enough for tonight, and if I am not mistaken, I believe you still have your Prefect duties to attend to. I will send another note when I am ready to begin our _lessons_, if that is alright with you?"

"Sure."

"Good. Alright then, Harry. I suppose we will call it a night. Off you go."

Harry blinked and gave a hesitant nod. "Alright, sir. Goodnight then."

"Goodnight, Harry."

–


	18. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary: Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta Pass by tannne

AN: Got another chapter for you. I've got chapters 18 and 19 about ready. 18 is already off to my beta while I've got to do my own proof-reading pass on 19 and then send it to her. I'll try and post 18 in a day or two.

– –

Chapter 17

Harry quickly went through his Prefect rounds before slipping out the Honeydukes tunnel and portkeying back to the manor just before 10:30pm. He went into the time-turner room, went back 24-hours, and raced up the stairs to the study, where he knew Tom would be waiting for him.

"Tom, you will _not_ believe what happened today!" Harry exclaimed as he jogged in through the door and shut it behind him.

Tom looked up from his desk with hesitant curiosity in his eyes. "Oh, what happened?"

Harry collapsed heavily onto the lounge and Tom turned in his chair to face Harry and more fully give him his attention. Harry went on to tell him about receiving the scroll summoning him to Dumbledore's office later that evening and then went on to describe Dumbledore taking him into the pensieve to show Harry the fake Prophecy and the mountain of ridiculous crap he had then spouted about the power of 'love'.

"So he's going to be giving you lessons on how to defeat me?" Tom said with an obvious air of amusement to his voice. Harry snorted.

"Yeah, but somehow I don't imagine he's going to be teaching me dueling."

"I wonder what he's going to teach you..." Tom mused quietly.

"Seeing as how he's got less than a year to live, and he's supposedly going to giving me the 'information I need to defeat you', I bet it's going to be whatever he knows about your horcruxes," Harry said.

"Yes, I suspect you are right."

"Hey, you said that one of your horcruxes is in the Room of Requirement, right? Something of Ravenclaw?"

"Ravenclaw's Diadem, yes."

"I think I should retrieve it. I don't feel good knowing it's so close to Dumbledore."

Tom nodded his head, looking thoughtful. "Yes... that is probably best."

"I was planning to go down to the Chamber Saturday to get that book. After that, I can head into the Room of Requirement. Bring both of them that night. I can even use my student time-turner so that my Gryffindor 'friends' don't even notice I'm gone."

"Sounds like a valid plan."

Tom went on to describe exactly how Harry would find the Diadem as well as a refresher on where to look for the book that would detail the stealth parsel spell that would allow Harry to 'phase'.

Finally, the two decided to call it a night and headed to bed.

–

The next day at the manor passed too quickly for Harry's tastes. He had quickly come to realize he distinctly preferred his days at the manor to his days back at Hogwarts. It was Friday again, and that night was an advanced training session. Snape was in attendance, which Harry was almost surprised by, but he figured that Snape had probably managed to slip out of the castle unnoticed while he was in his meeting with Dumbledore watching the fake prophecy in the pensieve.

At just after 10:30 that night, Harry portkeyed back to Hogwarts, up to Gryffindor tower, and went to sleep. The next day, shortly after breakfast, Harry gave his Gryffindor 'friends' the slip by ducking into an alcove and pulling his invisibility cloak over his head while they were distracted. He rushed off to Myrtle's bathroom and made his way down into the Chamber for the first time that school year.

The horribly battered remains of the basilisk were still down there and he realized that he probably needed to banish what was left sometime soon. He wouldn't be training down there anymore so he didn't need it anymore. It had been great at taking the brunt of his spells back when he was teaching himself Dark Arts, but now he had his training sessions back at the manor, and if he ever did need to practice while at Hogwarts, he could just use the Room of Requirement, or shrink down one of the dummies that he and Tom had made and bring it down here.

He walked up and down the length of the snake's corpse, still amazed that it didn't reek of rotting flesh. The preservation charms on the Chamber truly were a wonder. He had utterly decimated quite a large chunk of the snake, but he had left its head untouched. He wondered suddenly if any of the bits and pieces left in there would still be usable for potions ingredients. The eyes were gone – having been gouged out by Fawkes back in his second year – but the mouth was still filled with sharp pointed teeth and fangs. The venom glands probably still held stores of venom too. It was worth looking into at some point.

Another potential project for the Chamber that he had thought up over his summer was to try and get a _new_ basilisk down there. He had asked Tom at one point where one found a basilisk in the first place – wondering if they could capture one in the wild or something. Tom had informed him that you didn't 'find' a basilisk, you made one. It was even a fairly simple process. Theoretically, at least.

All you needed was a fertilized chicken egg, and a magical toad. You kept the chicken egg as a specified temperature, and made the toad sit on the egg from the moment it's laid, until it's hatched. Then, theoretically, a basilisk would hatch from the egg.

Harry had blinked at Tom, somewhat surprised, and had then asked Tom if he'd ever done it himself.

He had, in fact. The basilisk he'd created went with him in several of his travels during his late 20's, but at some point, keeping it with him had become too bothersome and he had left it in India.

So, Harry knew it was possible, and it was another thing that was worth looking into, but at the moment, he had other matters that needed attending to first.

He left the basilisk's corpse where it was and made his way towards the door and small tunnel that went into Slytherin's study. He began his search for the book Tom had mentioned, using the search spell that Tom's soul had taught him the previous winter when he was searching for a solution to surviving the second task.

Finally, he managed to find it and stuffed it into his bag before heading back up and out of the Chamber. Just before exiting the stairs, he pulled his invisibility cloak back over his head. He hissed the sink back into place as soon as he was out and quickly made his way through the school up to the seventh floor, and to the Room of Requirement. It only took him about three minutes to find the diadem. Not only did he have Tom's description of where to look, he could also _feel _the power and presence of his lover's soul, the closer he got to it.

He slipped it into his bag and left the room. He made his way back down to the alcove that he had ditched Ron and Hermione from and used his time-turner to go back to just as he slipped off. He waited until his past self had run off under his cloak before coming back out from the alcove and catching up with Ron and Hermione.

_Mischief managed,_ he thought to himself with a smirk.

–

It was about an hour later, while Harry's earlier self was still digging around the Chamber, that Harry and Hermione sat down at one of the study desks in the Gryffindor common room with the book borrowed from the Black library that detailed the steps involved in creating the family tree tapestry.

It wasn't a terribly complicated process, however it would prove to be time consuming. What's more, one of the stages was very time specific. It could only be performed at very specific times of the year.

The first potion would take just over one week to brew, and it was fairly basic in its function. It was simply a test that would determine if a person was a muggle or a squib. Hermione would have to take the brewed potion and soak two pieces of parchment in it and then send them off to her parents. Each of them would need to prick their fingers and put a drop of blood on their designated parchment. The drop of blood would stay red and then fade to brown, if it was just muggle blood. If it was the blood of a squib with even the faintest traces of magical descent, it would turn the whole parchment blue.

The reason it was important to determine which of Hermione's parents her magical descent came from was because the next potion was slightly different, depending on if you were following the maternal line, or the fraternal line.

It was important that they get this started right away and get the results back as soon as possible so that they could start brewing the second potion on time. The second potion – the most important one – took one full lunar cycle to brew and had to be started on either the Vernal Equinox or the _Autumnal_ Equinox. Fortunately, the Autumnal Equinox was coming up. _Unfortunately__,_ it was less than a month away. September 22nd was the Autumnal Equinox this year, and if Hermione hoped to get the results back from her parents in time, they had to get started on the first potion right away.

After having read through all of the steps involved in the whole process once, they reread and took notes over the first potion.

"We need centaury, hawthorn, burdock, blood root, fenugreek, prickly ash, valerian root, and sarsaparilla..." Harry read off as Hermione jotted it down in her notes. "We've got all of that in our standard kits except for the valerian root..."

Hermione looked up and frowned. "Do you think the apothecary in Hogsmeade would carry it?"

"Probably, but the first Hogsmeade weekend isn't until the end of September, which is obviously too late. We could sneak down sooner than that, of course –" Harry let his voice trail off.

Hermione's frown deepened. "I'd rather not have to sneak out. We're prefects now, we're supposed to set an example."

Harry chuckled and shrugged. "Well, as an alternative, we could just ask Professor Snape for some. I'd be willing to bet he's got some in his private stores."

Hermione's eyes widened. "I... suppose we could. Do you honestly think he'd give me some?" she asked hesitantly and with an obvious air of disbelief in her voice.

The corner of Harry's mouth turned up ever so slightly, but he managed to squash the urge to smirk.

"I'll ask him, how about that? If it doesn't work out, we'll see if any of the older years have any and if _that_ doesn't work, we can visit Hogsmeade. Alternatively, you could use owl post..."

"You'll ask him?" she echoed, incredulously. "Harry, you don't have to do that. Besides, well... Professor Snape doesn't exactly... like you very much... Look, I'll probably just do the owl order option..." Hermione said with a dejected sigh.

"Hold on before you order it. Owl order will take about a week to get back and if we have to wait for it, it'll be cutting things really close. Let me try Snape first."

Hermione did _not_ look convinced, but didn't argue any further.

"Alright, so the next thing we need to tackle is where to brew it." Hermione said "I don't exactly fancy making use of Myrtle's toilet again..."

Harry laughed. "Yeah, definitely not interested in that option. Hey, we could use one of the empty rooms down in the dungeons that the seventh years taking NEWT-level potions use towards the end of the year to do their long-term brewing."

"Yes, but Professor Snape would _never_ let us use one of those, Harry."

"Remember last year when I was brewing a potion during the winter holidays in preparation for the second task? I got him to let me use one of the potion labs then. I'll just ask again."

"But that was for the Tournament. There's no valid excuse for me doing this at all. It's not a school-related project, Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes. "It's an extracurricular potion, yes, but it's still practice, and this is certainly not a simple potion. Heck, maybe you can even get some sort of extra credit for the whole thing."

Hermione just looked at Harry with a blank face, and blinked at him several times. "Are we talking about the same Professor Snape?" Hermione finally asked.

Harry laughed, which really only seemed to confuse her further.

"Just let me worry about it."

–

A few minutes later, Harry left Hermione as she went up to her door to collect her own potion ingredients to make sure she had the other things she needed while Harry made his way out of Gryffindor's common room, down the grand staircase, down through the entrance hall then down into the dungeons and towards the potions classroom.

He pulled the Marauder's Map out of his pocket, activated it, and quickly skimmed it for Snape's name. He found him inside a room down in the dungeons that Harry was unfamiliar with and assumed was probably the man's personal quarters. He wandered down several poorly lit, cold stone passageways, following the map through the unfamiliar territory until he came to stop before a large portrait that guarded the entrance to the room the Snape was inside.

Harry cocked his head to the side slightly as he looked at the portrait. It was a very pale young woman with long pitch black hair tied back low, and braided down her back. She was sitting in a rocking chair beside a window, and leaning on one armrest, her hand propping up her chin, and staring wistfully out the window. It was a gentle scene, but also had a tinge of sadness to it, somehow.

Harry cleared his throat, but the girl continued to simply stare out the window.

"Excuse me," Harry said, and finally the girl blinked and lazily turned her head.

"What do _you_ want?" she drawled.

"I'd like to speak to Professor Snape."

She heaved a huge sigh before reluctantly standing up.

"Just a moment," she said as she walked out of the picture frame. A moment later, she walked back in and sat back down. "He'll be out in a moment."

"Thank you," Harry said, but she didn't seem to be listening again as she resumed her wistful stare out the window.

Harry rolled his eyes and shifted from one foot to the next for a moment until the portrait swung open to reveal Severus Snape standing behind it, looking at him somewhat incredulously.

"_What_ are _you_ doing here?" he hissed.

Harry just grinned. "I've come to ask a favor."

"A favor." Snape echoed flatly. "Well, out with it. What do you want?"

"I need some valerian root for a potion, but haven't got any. I was hoping you'd be willing to lend me some from your stores. I can replenish it later if need be. I'm also going to need a place to brew a potion for one week without worry of other students disturbing it, so I'll need to be able to lock the door. I was hoping to use one of the private brewing rooms the NEWT students get to use. And on September 22nd, I'll need to brew another potion, but the second one takes a full lunar cycle, so I'll need to use that room again for that."

Snape just blinked at him. "And _what_ exactly do you need all of this for?"

"Is that really important?"Harry replied with a simple calm smile that Snape apparently found quite infuriating.

"Well, in case anyone _else_ actually inquires as to what you're doing, what shall I tell them?" Snape said through clenched teeth.

"Shall we go in?" Harry asked, motioning towards the room behind Snape instead of answering his question.

Snape's face contorted harshly as he barely contained a snarl and a sharp retort. Instead he simply grimaced, stepped to the side and motioned Harry in. Harry stepped through the portrait hole and entered what turned out to be a fairly comfortable looking sitting room with a couch, several arm chairs, a small table, and a _lot_ of book shelves.

Snape shut the door and turned to face Harry with an expectant and impatient expression on his face.

"I assume this room is properly warded?" Harry asked.

"Of course," Snape said indignantly.

"Alright. I'm working on Hermione," Harry started simply. "She's a potential threat if she starts getting too suspicious of my behavior and the motives behind my actions – especially once the Defense Clubs get into full swing in a couple weeks. I've already got her boyfriend, Viktor Krum, getting her to warm up to a lot of Dark wizard ideals, while I slowly chip away at her blind faith in Dumbledore, but I still needed something to keep her busy and distracted. I've gotten her started on this big ancestry research project. Getting her to find out which side of her family her magic comes from. We're brewing a potion that will determine if either her mother or father are actually squibs. Once we figure out which one of them her magic comes from, we're going to brew another potion that will be used along with a bunch of spells and a small ritual, to create a detailed family tapestry going back a number of generations. The whole thing will serve a couple valid purposes. One, I think it'll help connect her with wizarding roots if she is able to associate herself with her wizard ancestors, instead of only thinking of herself as 'muggleborn'. And of course, it will also keep her busy and keep her mind occupied with other things since both potions require daily maintenance."

By the time Harry had finished, Snape's eyes were quite wide, but his face was otherwise blank.

"And _this_ is why you need to use one of the private brewing rooms? To keep Granger _distracted?_"

"Yup. But you've got to admit that out of all of the Gyrffindors, she _is_ the biggest risk to me. She's the most observant and she's also nosey as hell. As far as she's concerned, anything I'm up to is her business, even though it's not. I keep her distracted, I run less of a risk that she's going to start poking her nose into my business where it does not belong. The rest of the Gryffindors are too thick to really notice or care if I'm running off and disappearing all the time. It's not like I'm asking for much. The NEWT-level students don't start on their projects until second term and we'll be done with the room by then. And valerian root isn't expensive or all that hard to come by, it's just not used in any OWL-level potions so neither of us bought any."

Snape's lip curled up in obvious distaste, and he looked as if he were suddenly greatly pained. "_Fine,_" he growled out.

He spun around and the portrait door flew open. "Well, come on then, Potter. I haven't got all day," Snape said sharply as he strode out into the hall. Harry just smiled smugly and followed behind.

A few moments later, they came to a stop at the entrance to Snape's private store room. The professor muttered a few spells under his breath as he took down the wards he placed over it to prevent thievery and then he stepped inside. He came back out a moment later with a small jar full of valerian roots and curtly handed it over.

Harry took it and gave a wide grin in return. "Thank you very much, Professor Snape," Harry said with a small air of amusement.

Snape glared at him with narrow, angry eyes and his lip curled into a tightly restrained sneer.

He quickly pushed past Harry, closing the store room door and re-warding it before briskly stalking down the corridor and coming to a stop in front of one of the private brewing rooms.

"You can use this one." Snape said curtly.

Harry opened the door and stuck his head in. "It'll do. Thanks."

Again, Snape looked as if he were slightly nauseated before he turned sharply away and began to head back towards his private room. Harry watched him go with an amused smirk gracing his face. It was amazing how much his attitude towards Snape had changed over the past two months. He found he didn't even hate the man anymore. But, that probably had a lot to do with the fact that their positions had almost completely reversed. Before, Snape had held all of the power, but now Harry was the one in control. It was a considerably more enjoyable position to be in. Not to mention, he found it exceedingly amusing to mess with the Potions Master.

– –

Harry returned to Hermione with the valerian roots and then escorted her and her supplies down to their new private brewing room. Hermione was understandably stunned that Harry had managed to succeed in acquiring the potion ingredient _and_ permission to use the room. She asked how he'd managed it but he just smiled and simply replied that all he had done was ask nicely.

Obviously, Hermione seriously doubted this explanation, but Harry had just chuckled and shrugged.

Hermione began to setup her new workstation and had Harry add the water while she began preparing ingredients.

"Honestly, Harry... you seem to have a much different attitude regarding Professor Snape than you used to. It's... sort of confusing." Hermione hesitantly remarked while Harry set the cauldron over a conjured flame.

Harry paused and looked contemplative for a moment before turning back to face Hermione. "I learned some things about him this summer. So, I sort of understand where he's coming from a bit better. Honestly, what I learned about his motives and stuff actually makes him seem even more immature and bitter, but at the same time, I've sort of figured out how to push his buttons without getting in trouble for it." He finished with a devilish smirk.

"Harry!" Hermione said in a reprimanding voice. Then her expression shifted to confusion and her brow furrowed. "Wait... how could you... I..." She paused, clearly trying to work out in her mind how any of what Harry had just said made since. "How could you have learned about Professor Snape this summer?"

Harry chuckled.

"Well, there was Sirius, but I really only got confirmation from him... You know Professor Rowle?"

"The new Defense teacher? What about him?"

"He's been doing private tutoring for years. Both for home-schooled witches and wizards, and also for private extra lessons during summers. Anyway, he used to tutor Nick and he visited the manor over the summer. Not really giving lessons, just visiting as sort of a friendly thing."

Hermione blinked. "Wait, so you'd met him before school even started?"

Harry grinned and nodded. "Yup. Anyway, Professor Rowle sort of knew Snape – not really all that close or anything, but they do know each other a bit. Professor Rowle was two years under Professor Snape when they went to Hogwarts. So anyway, we were talking about Hogwarts Professors and Snape's name came up and I might have remarked that he tended to treat me rather poorly..." Harry's voice trailed off as Hermione gave him a _look_ that told him she suspected just how Harry might have described Snape's treatment of him.

Harry chuckled and continued. "Anyway, Rowle told me that back when they were all in school, Snape really fancied my mum. He and my mum were best friends up until fifth year when she and Snape had a big row and my dad defended my mum. My dad and his friends – Sirius and Remus, obviously, and Pettigrew – they used to pick on Snape mercilessly. Rowle said it was because James Potter fancied my mum, but she wouldn't give him the time of day. She was always hanging out with a 'Slimy Slytherin git' named Snape instead – so the Marauders targeted Snape for most of their pranks. It was a really nasty rivalry. Worst of all, Snape's Gryffindor rival ended up getting the girl. After my dad defended my mum after the big row, she finally started to get close and become friends; eventually dating; eventually married. So Snape lost my mum to my dad because he messed up and called her a mudblood in a moment of anger, and I'm the physical manifestation of everything he could have had if he hadn't fucked up so bad."

"Harry!" Hermione said in a reprimanding hiss. Harry just chuckled. She paused and seemed to be going over what all he'd said. "So... well, that's a lot to think over and quite a story if it's true, but I don't see how that um, showed you how to 'push his buttons' and not get in trouble."

Harry grinned widely. "He _loved_ my mum, Hermione. I think part of him still does. There's also this big guilt thing I think he's carrying around... it's complicated and maybe I'll explain it to you someday, but I think it's sort of private for him, and I know he'd be really angry if I started telling people about it. Anyway, I think the biggest problem between he and I was that he saw me as the second coming of James Potter. The man who tortured him and made his school life miserable for years, and who _then_ took the woman he loved away from him. Obviously, comparing me to my father is entirely unfair, because I don't think I'm much like him at all. What I needed to do was remind him that Lily Evans was also my mum. I'm not just my dad." Harry have a simple dismissive shrug as if that was all there was to it.

Hermione blinked at him before looking thoughtful.

"You've really changed a lot, Harry."

It was Harry's turn to blink blankly at Hermione.

"It's just... well, I guess you put a lot more thought into things than you used to," Hermione explained, biting her lower lip. "You think about people's motives, instead of just looking at their actions and reacting."

"I like to think of it as having 'matured', not just 'changed'. It's like I said back at Grimmauld Place. I've come to understand the importance of politics and political maneuvering. Understanding people and their motives is a big part of all that. It makes it a lot easier to deal with people if you put a little thought into this stuff. I was always _reacting_ to stuff without any real preparation before. I don't like scrambling around blindly. This works a lot better. Maybe I can even avoid getting into so many crazy messes if I keep this up."

Hermione gave him a small smile and shook her head. "Well, I hope so. You've had more than your fair share of crazy messes."

Harry chuckled. "That I have. Now let's get cracking on getting this potion started."

Hermione smiled and nodded her head.

– –

It was late Sunday evening and Severus was in Hogsmeade at the Three Broomsticks, apparently enjoying a small glass of Fire Whiskey, but actually waiting for the right time to leave. He had a meeting with the Dark Lord that evening, however, Dumbledore had to remain ignorant of this meeting so Severus' departure from the school grounds had to remain as inconspicuous as possible.

Finally, the time seemed right and he got up to leave. Minerva and Pomona were still there, talking animatedly about the first week of classes, and which of the new students in their houses looked the most interesting.

They called out their farewells to him as he left and he nodded his head curtly to them before making his way out of the pub and towards the path that lead up to the castle. Once he had gone just beyond the edge of the little wizarding village, but had not yet entered the school's wards, he pulled up the sleeve of his left arm, pointed his wand at his Dark Mark and activated the magic within it that would allow him to apparate into the Dark Lord's manor.

Once in the manor, he fluidly strode down the familiar hallway towards the conference room where he always had his private meetings with his Lord. He usually arrived a few minutes early – because that was always considerably preferable to showing up late – and would wait in the room until Lord Voldemort came down with his snake. However, Severus severely doubted that the 'snake' would be making an appearance tonight. If the snake _was_ absent, that would confirm that it had, in fact, been Harry Potter, all alone. He still couldn't fathom _why_ the Dark Lord had allowed Potter to observe all of their meetings. He didn't like the idea _at all_, if he was being honest with himself.

He preferred the meetings between he and the Dark Lord remain just that – between _he and the Dark Lord_. It wasn't like he expected his Lord to keep everything he relayed secret, but he still found that he distinctly preferred to have their meetings without an audience. The idea of the audience being _Potter_ of all people had been especially unsettling.

When he entered the conference room, he came up short for a moment, finding that the room was not empty as it usually was when he arrived a few minutes early. The Dark Lord was sitting at the head of the table, apparently waiting for him. What was truly unnerving, though, was that he was not alone.

Evan Harris was sitting beside him.

Snape swallowed his stunned reaction and quickly strode inside, closing the door behind him, and then sitting down at the table, opposite the Dark Lord and his lover... er, _apprentice_.

"I apologize for the wait, m'Lord," Snape said bowing his head slightly.

Voldemort raised his hand in a dismissive gesture and the meeting quickly got underway. A few minutes in the Dark Lord asked for a status update on anything pertaining to Dumbledore and the ring.

"He called me up to his office yesterday evening to discuss it, actually. He wanted my opinion and expertise in the realm of Dark artifacts." Severus said.

"What happened, precisely?" the Dark Lord asked with narrowed eyes.

"From what I could gather, the ring is more than just a ring..." Severus hesitated and glanced at the Dark Lord for a moment, wondering if he would be let in on any details that could explain what exactly was going on. The Dark Lord, however, did not offer up any information so he continued on. "There is something magically attached to the ring that he wishes to destroy. From what I can tell, he already knows a few methods that will destroy it, however he is hesitating to do so because all of the methods he knows would also destroy the ring itself. For some reason that he did not disclose to me, he does not wish to destroy the ring. It seems to hold some other significance to him and he is attempting to find a way to destroy whatever is attached to it without destroying the ring itself."

Harris was frowning deeply while the Dark Lord's face was mostly blank except for the furious storm that appeared to be raging behind his eyes. It sent a shiver down Severus' spine. He also realized in that moment that whatever was special about the ring, Harris seemed to be in-the-know.

"You said he wanted your opinion and expertise? What did he ask you?" the Dark Lord asked.

"He wanted my opinion on whether or not I believed that soaking an object in basilisk venom would be sufficient when usually one would need to impale or fracture the object first. He also wanted to know if I knew of any suppliers that had any basilisk venom available."

Voldemort's eyes flashed angrily. "You will do everything in your power to guarantee that he does not acquire any basilisk venom."

"Of course, my Lord."

"If at any point you get the indication that Dumbledore is about to make his move to destroy it, or if he comes to a meal and is no longer wearing it, I want you to inform Harry Potter, immediately. Is that understood, Severus?"

Severus blinked for a moment, still finding himself bewildered by this order but slowly nodded his head. "If you wish it, my Lord, it will be done."

Voldemort gave him a lingering, narrowed, glare. "Potter is in the possession of a student-issue time-turner this year. Should some sort of emergency action need to take place, he will be in the best position to accomplish the task."

Severus gave a curt nod to acknowledge that he understood his Lord's order and at least slightly understood the reasons behind it. He was fortunate that the Dark Lord had seen fit to explain anything at all, really.

It was also quite a shocking revelation that Potter had managed to get his grubby little hands on a time-turner. Probably used his fame and all those connections in the Ministry he seemed to have mysteriously developed over the summer to weasel his way into getting one.

As much as Severus hated the idea of Potter getting even _more_ special treatment, he had to admit that it could be considerably useful for the Dark Lord's plans for Potter to have his own time-turner.

"I understand, my Lord. I will be sure to contact Potter right away should it appear that the ring is in eminent danger."

"Good. Now, let's move on to –"

And so the evening continued. Harris spoke up a few times to Severus, but mostly he remained quiet or leaned in close to the Dark Lord's side and whispered his observations directly to him. Severus simply tried his best to pretend the man just wasn't there. When he let himself actually _think_ about the true nature of these two powerful wizards' relationship it made him flinch.

It was a bit strange observing their interactions though. Harris looked perfectly comfortable at the Dark Lord's side. Not at all disturbed by his appearance, or the way his voice tended to hiss, or his unsettling, high pitch. He wasn't disgusted or frightened, or even _intimidated_ by the Dark Lord.

Severus tried to fight it, but he found his eyes lingering on the Dark Lord's physical appearance much more than he normally would. Observing the intricate details. His skin was thin, paper-like, but scaly textured. Some scales were small, while some where larger. The wide, thin neck that seemed to have a small, cobra-like hood going from his neck to his shoulders. His thin, overly hallow cheeks that exaggerated his sharp cheekbones, giving him a skeletal-like facial structure. His flat expanse where a nose should be, occupied by nothing but two thin slits for nostrils. His flat, lipless mouth. His sunken eyes sockets, and the small almost constantly narrowed eyes within. Their bright red color with slit pupils. The white, bald scaly head and two little nubs for ears. He was monstrous. Combine that with the obscenely powerful waves of Darkness always rolling off of the man and he was truly a terrifying creature.

Utterly frightening.

And this man – this _Evan Harris –_ was fucking him. Severus shuddered... and not the good kind, either. But, he had to remind himself that, according to Dumbledore, the Dark Lord had the ability to look human as well. He had heard that the Dark Lord was a very handsome man in his youth – not that he really knew much of any information about who the man used to be or how exactly he had come to be the monstrous form that Severus now found sitting before him. Or, what would possibly possess him to become this... creature, when he had once supposedly been so handsome and charismatic.

He couldn't help but wonder how this man, Evan Harris, could possibly have come to find himself in a relationship with the Dark Lord. Was it simply a desire for power? He highly doubted the Dark Lord would open his bed to someone who merely sought to use him for power.

He knew that it was truly none of his business, nor was there any likelihood that he would ever be _told_ exactly how the two of them had come together since the only ones who knew were the Dark Lord and Evan Harris himself and neither seemed particularly open about such details. Yet, Severus couldn't help his curiosity. It was just such a powerfully bewildering situation.

Severus wondered if there was anyone else who actually knew about the two of them being involved, _intimately_. Dumbledore knew only because he had somehow stumbled upon the Dark Lord and Harris during a private moment, and Snape knew because of Dumbledore. But did any other Death Eaters know? For that matter... did anyone in the Order know? Dumbledore was extremely tight-lipped with his own secrets, but he had shared this information with Severus. Had he seen fit to share it with anyone else?

Severus tried to imagine out any possible reasons Dumbledore would have to revealing such a detail to anyone in the Order and couldn't really think of any. The Dark Lord was seen as an inhuman monster by the Order. Portraying him as a man capable of being in a romantic relationship with someone would only confuse this portrayal. Dumbledore had no desire to try and humanize the Dark Lord in the eyes of others. He was the enemy and that was where it stopped for them.

Severus suddenly wondered... Did Potter know? Was Potter aware that the Dark Lord had a lover? It was Severus' impression that Harris lived in the manor with the Dark Lord, and Potter had apparently lived in the manor all summer long.

He shook his head to try and clear it and refocus on the Dark Lord and the information he needed to finish relaying. His mind was far too convoluted with unimportant things. The relationship status of his Lord was _not his business_, and he needed to stop thinking about it.

Severus was endlessly thankful when the meeting was finally over and he was able to leave the manor, and his disturbing thoughts behind.

– –

The days continued to pass for Harry. At the end of the second week of classes, which was actually nearly 4 weeks since the start of term for Harry thanks to his 'every-day-twice' lifestyle, Harry and Tom were finally ready to make an announcement to the Advanced group of Death Eaters. The group, that was currently made up of 23 Death Eaters, gathered in the ballroom as usual and waited for the Dark Lord to enter and for the training to begin. But this evening started differently than had become usual.

Voldemort strode in briskly with Evan Harris walking directly behind him. They came to stand at the head of the room and paused as the room fell silent.

"Starting with tonight's gathering, we will be meeting twice a week until the end of October, and our focus will shift from general preparation, to a far more specific set of training scenarios and goals. On the eve of Samhain, we shall attack the island prison of Azkaban." Voldemort said in a loud, clear, commanding, voice.

A few low mutters broke out in the hall but they were instantly silenced by a sharp glare.

"The Dementors have already sworn their allegiance to me and have agreed to show us no resistance. Once I break down the prison's wards, we will only have the Aurors and guards to contend with, and since the Ministry is so obscenely confident in their control of the Dementors, there are few of them stationed on the island, and only the lowest of their ranks are sent to there. The post is seen more often than not as a demotion or punishment since no one in their right mind would _want_ to voluntarily spend so much time around Dementors. It should be a simple task for us to deal with the Aurors and retrieve our captured brethren, and free any additional prisoners who are willing to swear their allegiance to me and our cause, from the prison and return with them."

After a brief speech, Voldemort set the majority of those in the room to their standard training practices just to keep them busy, while he called a smaller group of 5 Death Eaters forward to speak with him. The smaller group was made up of the most skilled and basically, the highest ranking, of the Death Eaters. They were his 'Inner Circle', and they would be acting as generals and leading the others during the attack. They were Lucius Malfoy, Barty Crouch, William Pritchard, Delroy Nott, and Emmet Yaxley. Voldemort and 'Evan' went on to explain precisely what the plan was, what each step in attacking the prison would be, and what each of the inner circle members, and what those under their command, would be expected to do.

They broke up shortly and each of the inner circle 'generals' called their group of subordinates forward and began to relay their instructions and what training scenarios to practice in preparation. Despite the suggestion that the mission shouldn't be a challenge for the Death Eaters, no one was naive enough to believe that it would actually be easy. It was _Azkaban_, after all, and no one had ever even dared to attack the prison before.

Snape was dismissed from the next month and a half of Advanced Training sessions since he would not be expected to participate in the prison break-in. Obviously, he was not to mention anything about the prison break-out to Dumbledore, and he was told to tell Dumbledore that he hadn't been summoned at all lately, and that he felt that the Dark Lord was keeping something big from him. That way he wouldn't be suspected when the break-out suddenly happened without any warning from Snape to the Order.

When the meeting was done, everyone was told the next time they were expected to appear at the manor and then dismissed.

–

During the following week of September, Harry and Tom spent a portion of each of their days together at Morhda Abbey, preparing it for the move there, and for the Death Eaters who would have to live there once they were retrieved from Azkaban.

The castle had a fair number of magical portraits spaced throughout it and Harry gathered them all up and relocated them into the west wing that he and Tom had decided to designate as their private wing. Most were put in the large drawing room on the second floor that held the Potter Family Tapestry and the portrait of Harrison Potter. Harry had also located a portrait of Charlus Potter and Dorea Potter (nee Black), and spent one whole afternoon just asking them questions.

Dorea was never kicked out of her family for her ideals, but she was never very popular amongst her siblings and cousins since she wasn't such a stickler for pureblood supremacy as the rest of them tended to be. Charlus was clearly a bit arrogant and was rather vocal in his very strong beliefs in the Light agenda. According to Harrison's portrait, his son had rebelled a bit against him during his school years and went very 'Pro-Light' for the sake of having a cause to call his own. It was during Grindlewald's war, and being 'Pro-Light, Anti-Dark wizards', was seen as a very brave, courageous, and 'Gryffindor' thing to do at the time. Harrison put much of it down to peer pressure and Charlus' desire to be accepted amongst his house mates in Gryffindor.

Harrison, as his brother, and his father before him, had always considered himself a moderate who leaned a bit more to the Dark, and many of his friends and business associates were people he had met during his time growing up in Slytherin House – which included Dorea's father Cygnus. Dorea considered herself a moderate as well, but stood by her husband Charlus, despite his boisterous dislike for anything Dark. They were all interesting people to talk to, even if Harry was quickly finding that he didn't particularly like Charlus much, but Harry was glad that he was finally getting an image in his mind of his family history outside the publicly accepted line that the Potters had always been some sort of legendary Light aligned family, so _of course_, it made sense for them to produce the Light's 'savior'.

One of the older portraits Harry found in the manor was of a Jheames Potter, who was Harrison's great-great-grandfather. It was a very, very _old, _and very _small, _portrait that Harry had found in one of the bedrooms on the third floor in the eastern wing of the house. He had relocated it to the drawing room and hung it on the wall with several others he had recently collected.

The portrait hadn't spoken to Harry much at all, aside from telling him his name and helping Harry find his position on the family tapestry so Harry could understand his relation to the man. But some time later, while Harry was explaining some of the current wizarding world's politics and magical views to some of the other portraits he had gathered in the room, the portrait of Jheames had guffawed loudly when he had heard Harry mention that the wizarding public seemed to be under the impression that the Potters were some sort of Light scion family. When Harry had asked him what was so funny about that, Jheames had said it was funny because their family actually descended from one of the most powerful necromancer's families the world had every known, which made Tom look up instantly in interest and caused Harry to almost choke.

"Necromancers?" Harry had sputtered as soon as he'd recovered from his initial shock.

"Yes! The Peverells, boy! The Peverells!" Jheames said with his nose in the air. "Ignotus Peverell was your ancestor! Didn't you know?"

"Who's Ignotus Peverell?" Harry replied in confusion. This was obviously not the proper response because Jheames seemed to puff up in indignation.

"_Who's Ignotus Peverell?_ The youth these days! Don't know a thing of their own history! Downright dishonorable!"

Tom had come up to stand beside Harry and was looking on with narrowed eyes and the look of someone who was deep in thought. "Was this Ignotus Peverell related at all to a Cadmus Peverell?" Tom asked.

"Related? Of course they were related! They were brothers! Two of the three brothers. Ignotus, Cadmus, and Antioch! The only three wizards who could ever claim to have surpassed Death! The most powerful legendary necromancers to ever roam the Earth!" Jheames declared proudly.

Harry looked over at Tom. "Who's Cadmus Peverell?"

"An ancestor of mine, apparently." Tom said dryly.

"Wait, you mean we're related on _both_ my mother's and father's sides?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Apparently so," Tom said with an amused smirk. "If I recall correctly from my own ancestry history research, during my youth, my great-great grandfather – a Gaunt, and descendant from the Slytherin line – married a woman who was the last descendant from the line of Cadmus Peverell. Cadmus' actual place in my family history was so many generations ago it was near impossible to trace the connection. The only reason I know of his name at all is because the _ring_ that Dumbledore has stolen from me was passed down from a _Cadmus Peverell_."

The portrait gasped. "You've found the ring?" Jheames whispered and his eyes were wide with awe.

Both Harry and Tom's attention instantly focused back on the portrait.

"What do you know of the ring?" Tom asked sharply.

"It's the resurrection stone! Cadmus' greatest achievement! Out of the three brothers Cadmus was the most achieved in the Black arts of death. A Necromancer of the highest caliber! Ignotus and Antioch both created powerful magical artifacts that allowed them to escape Death themselves, but Cadmus' ring defied Death utterly by actually reversing his power! The ability to revive the souls of those who have already passed into Death's icy grip!"

"Wait... the _ring_ can bring back the dead?" Harry asked incredulously. "You said that Ignotus and Antioch created artifacts too? What were they?"

"Antioch was said to have created a wand so powerful that no one could ever defeat the wielder in a head-to-head duel. He called it the _Death Stick_. It was supposedly made of elder wood and Thestral hair, but had so much more to it than that... as for our ancestor, boy... Ignotus created an invisibility cloak so powerful that even Death could not find you beneath it. A cloak that would never fade or weaken. I never tested it while I lived, but I heard that my own grandfather even hid beneath it and took a killing curse and yet he survived. Death was not able to find him to take his soul so he remained alive."

Harry choked on his own breath. Tom's eyes grew even wider and his face was actually slacked a bit with shock.

"The cloak has been passed down in our family for centuries. From father to eldest son." Jheames continued and then he paused and gave Harry a piercing look. "It hasn't been lost, has it, boy?"

"No. Ah... actually, I have it right here." Harry paused, went over to a love seat where he'd left his bag earlier and pulled the cloak out.

Tom was instantly by his side, suddenly far more interested in Harry's cloak than he had ever been before. Harry allowed Tom to take it to examine it closely. His brilliant eyes taking in every detail of the fine silvery material of the cloak's inner lining and then examining the invisible exterior. He waved his wand over it and began muttering spells and looking over the results of whatever detection spells he was casting.

Harry turned his attention back to Jheames's tiny portrait. "So these Peverell brothers were necromancers?"

"That they were, childe. Although I doubt many remember it that way these days. There was some ridiculous children's story written about their creations. The cloak, the stone, and the unbeatable wand. Made it out to sound like the items had been gifted to the brothers by Death, rather than they having been the creation of the brothers themselves."

"But they weren't gifts." Harry clarified.

"Of course not! The brothers created them! They were great, powerful, wizards! It takes an incredible level of brilliance and tremendous power to create such amazing magical artifacts as these. There are those people out there that would refuse to believe that any individual wizard could ever be capable of such a feat. They insist on giving the objects a truly omnipotent origin. 'Something so powerful would have had to be created by _Death'_ or some such rot. No. No, boy. Our ancestor _created_ that cloak! You should keep it with you and always treasure just how incredible a thing it is. It is a symbol of just how _powerful_ a bloodline you descend from!"

Harry nodded his head dumbly as he looked back at Tom, still examining the cloak with intense interest.

A cloak that could protect the person beneath it from the killing curse? Was that even possible? Was there a way to test it?

Harry realized suddenly that there _was_ a way to test it. Just put someone under the damn thing and shoot a killing curse at them. It could be anyone really. They could just go pick up some random muggle and test it that way, in fact. Or even an animal. He'd seen some geese in the lake...

"Kozy!" Harry called out, calling one of the more recently acquired house elves to him. The small young house elf appeared before him an instant later, bowing low and asking her master what he needed.

"Go fetch one of the geese I saw swimming on the lake. Don't kill it, but you can stun it." Harry said and Tom looked up at him as understanding flashed across his eyes.

"Yes master. Kozy will be fetching you a goosey right away, sir," the elf said bowing low again and quickly popping away.

"You intend to test it on a goose?" Tom asked, walking closer.

Harry shrugged. "Proof-of-theory test. If the goose dies, then it's probably just an old legend. If the goose lives, we can test it on something more advanced like a muggle or something."

Tom chuckled and then looked thoughtful. "Are you sure you're not worried about damaging the cloak?"

Harry paused and frowned. "Hmm... hadn't thought of that."

A moment later Kozy appeared holding a limp goose by the neck. "Master's goosey," the little elf said, giving a small curtsy.

"Thank you Kozy," Harry said dismissively.

"Is Masters needings anything elses from Kozy?"

"No, Kozy. You may go."

The little elf bowed and disappeared with a soft _pop._

Harry looked at the unconscious goose on the floor and then over at the cloak in Tom's hands and back again, frowning slightly. Finally he sighed and shrugged. "If it doesn't work, we won't try it again. The killing curse doesn't generally cause physical damage, right? It just releases the soul from the body."

"That is true," Tom said with a nod. "Do you wish to place it?" Tom asked offering the cloak to Harry. Harry took it and laid it over the unconscious goose on the floor. He returned to Tom's side, withdrew his cypress wand, aimed it at the spot on the floor where he knew the invisible goose was laying and calmly shot off a killing curse.

The green light flashed brightly and illuminated the drawing room for a moment before it impacted with seemingly _nothing_ and was gone. Harry and Tom walked back over to the goose. Harry bent over and picked up the cloak, examining it's under lining for any signs of damage while Tom waved his wand over the bird. Harry glanced over as Tom cast an enervate and the goose's head began to wobble and lift off the ground. The bird looked thoroughly disoriented and when it tried to stand it fell over a few times.

Tom stunned it again and the two wizards looked at each other with wide, disbelieving, eyes before looking back down in awe at the cloak in Harry's hands.

"Bloody hell." Harry whispered.

His cloak could block the killing curse.

And apparently, Tom's ring could bring back the dead.

–

They kept the goose in a small pen in the cellar where Tom was in the process of setting up their future potions and work lab. Every day when they visited the Abbey to continue their work setting it and the rest of the castle up, they would observe the goose for any signs that it was going to either die, or recover. It continued to be disoriented for several days, but by the end of the week, it appeared to be in perfect health.

Jheames' portrait seemed rather smug when Harry had gone back up to the west wing drawing room on the second floor and informed him that the bird truly had survived. He said it was just a testament to the incredible power of their ancestor and his utter brilliance.

Tom had also spent some time trying to research the 'resurrection stone' that Jheames had mentioned. They realized rather quickly that this could be why Dumbledore was trying so hard to find a way to destroy the horcrux without harming the actual ring.

"You know, Tom... I was thinking," Harry mused one day while the pair was eating lunch back in the manor.

"Yes, love?" Tom asked absently.

"Well, Dumbledore had my father's cloak all those years while I was with the Dursleys. He said that he'd had borrowed it from my father so he could study it."

Tom looked up and silently told Harry to continue with his eyes.

"Dumbledore knows several very powerful disillusionment spells. He can make himself invisible without the need for an invisibility cloak, so he never needed it for anything like that. But what reason would he have to want to borrow it so he could 'study' it, unless he realized it wasn't just a normal demiguise cloak?"

"You think he knew what it was. That he knew it was the cloak from the legendary Peverell brothers?" Tom concluded.

"I think it's a very reasonable explanation. Which would mean that he knows about the Peverells, and thus, that he would probably also know about the ring."

Tom sat back in his chair and nodded. "It adds up. And Dumbledore seems the type to find value in a stone that can bring back the dead."

– –

Harry had spent his Hogwarts-days during that week since Jheames' revelation, closely observing Dumbledore whenever he had the chance. So far the man _always_ wore the ring. Every meal, Dumbledore would sit at the head table with the ring firmly in place on his blackened, shriveled hand.

Every day, Harry would reach out subtly with his magic and check to make sure that Tom's soul was still intact inside the ring, and so far, much to his relief, it was.

– –

His first three weeks worth of time at Hogwarts wasn't something Harry would have considered difficult at all, however, it wasn't particularly interesting or challenging either – especially in comparison to his alternating days spent with Tom and the Death Eaters. While at Hogwarts, he forced himself to study ahead in all of his classes so he could keep his grades up. He no longer had his companion to whisper the answers to Snape's questions in class, and no amount of natural proficiency in practical magic helped him with classes like Potions, Arithmancy, Runes, History and Astronomy. He had to actually _study – _read his texts, and take proper notes – to maintain good performance in those subjects. Unlike Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense, which focused a lot more on practical demonstrations of magic – which he almost always mastered after just one attempt, or was already familiar with from his self-study and his training with Tom.

And while he wanted to be good at magic for his own personal reasons and benefit, he also found himself wanting to get the best marks he could in order to impress Tom. Tom was a genius, both magically and intellectually, and Harry didn't delude himself into thinking that he would ever completely match up to the man, but he still didn't want to disappoint him by having poor academic performance. This _was_ his OWLs year, and he had high hopes that, despite all that Harry had going on, he would get Outstandings in every subject he was taking.

And so during his alternating days at Hogwarts, he spent most of his time, outside of classes, studying. Hermione loved it, of course. He was spending a _lot_ of his time with her, in fact, thanks to both his studious attitude, and the fact that he had helped her with brewing the potion for her family tree project. They had finished it and sent the treated strips of parchment off to Hermione's parents. Harry had ended up having to distract Hermione with extra library and study time just to get her to settle down from all her nerves.

Ginny had helped a lot though with calming Hermione down, and thanks to Harry now taking two of his classes with her, Harry was spending even more time with the youngest Weasley than he had the previous year. Whenever in the library together, and Luna happened to pass by, she was invited to join them, making Harry's normal study group now comprised of three girls, and himself. Hermione had been a bit cold with the blond Ravenclaw in the beginning, and the two still tended to butt heads from time to time, but Harry had managed to establish a nice balance in the group and headed off most arguments before they started.

Ron, obviously, felt very out of place with them. He still had little-to-no interest in putting any serious effort into his academics, and it appeared he had hoped that Harry would have given up on his crazed 'pursuit of better grades' that he had developed the previous year because of the Tournament. Now there was no longer a tournament. No longer impending doom, or the looming threat of deadly creatures to motivate him. Surely Harry would return to normal, now? But obviously not. And Ron had quickly given up his continued attempts to drag Harry off to do more 'interesting' things, and left him to the girls.

He was, instead, spending a lot of his time with Dean and Seamus again. By the end of the third week of classes, Ron was sitting, almost exclusively, with the other two boys, and only occasionally coming to speak with Harry about specific things or to ask for help with some assignment he had forgotten about or put off until the last minute.

One of those 'fun and interesting' things that Ron still bothered to speak with Harry about was Quidditch try-outs, which were being held that coming weekend. Ron was incredibly eager, but also obviously nervous. He was going to be trying out for the only open spot on the team – Keeper. It had previously been held by Oliver Wood, the old captain. But Oliver had graduated the previous year, leaving his position now open to whoever could earn it.

The new captain of the team was Angelina Johnson, the most senior member of the team, being a seventh year, and one of the Chasers. She was holding tryouts that coming Sunday to fill the open spot, but also for some extra reserve team members in the case of anyone being sick, or injured during a game.

Harry found himself apathetic about it all, but tired not to let it be too obvious since both Ron, and Ginny were excited about the coming Quidditch season; not to mention most of their housemates – and they expected Harry to be excited as well. He wasn't, though. And in fact, Harry had quite enjoyed the previous three weeks of Hogwarts time without any worry about Quidditch practices to concern himself with, but he knew that as soon as the team had a Keeper, practices would start in earnest.

Just one more thing to add to his already overly-full plate.

– –


	19. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary: Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta Pass by tannne

– –

Chapter 18

By September 18th, Hermione had gotten the two pieces of parchment back from her parents. It turned out that her mother was a squib while her father was just a muggle. Hermione had been incredibly excited to have this tangible evidence that she truly did descend from a magical lineage and that she hadn't just popped into existence as some sort of freakish anomaly.

Harry and Hermione already had all of the supplies for the second potion ready. There were only two ingredients differences between the maternal and fraternal versions of the tapestry potions, and now that they knew it was the maternal version they needed, they were all set to start brewing on the autumnal equinox on the 22nd of September.

That afternoon they had Defense class again, and Harry knew this was the day that Thor was going to officially announce the start of the Defense clubs. He had waited this long so that he could complete some additional observations of his own of the students, but also to give the student body as a whole some time to adjust being back in school. He'd put up a sheet that people who were interested in the club could sign. Most of them were going to end up in the 'Intermediate club'. All of the Slytherins had signed up, mostly because their parents had told them to, and the rest had been quietly nudged by their housemates. Most of _them_ were headed for the 'Advanced club'.

Harry had stayed after Defense class on Monday to share some of his opinions and observations with Thor on the students who had signed up. He'd actually been a bit surprised by some of the names that had appeared on the sign-up sheet. The most surprising of them all was Neville Longbottom. Harry had to admit that even after sharing a dorm room with the quiet boy for more than four years, he barely knew him. Hardly anyone did, really. Neville was just the quiet, shy boy, who messed up in Potions, was terrified of Snape, and spent a lot of his free time in the greenhouses and talking with Professor Sprout.

Out of all of the classes that Neville wasn't very good at, his two worst were Potions and Defense. Harry didn't see Neville has actually having a strong interest in Defense as a subject, but he imagined that Neville probably signed up for the club because he felt he needed the extra tutoring in the subject.

Hermione had signed up for the club too, of course, and Harry knew she was eagerly expecting acceptance into the Advanced group. Harry had tried to remind her that, while she had always been good at answering questions and completing her essays with good marks, her practical performance of the material had always been a little iffy in their DADA classes. Defense had never been one of her top subjects, and was the _only_ class that Harry had been able to get better results in, even before his magical reserves were released after he stopped suppressing Tom's soul the previous fall.

She had gotten a bit disgruntled with his suggestion that she might not be good enough for the advanced group but Harry had tried to placate her by pointing out he just didn't want her to get disappointed if things didn't go as she expected. She'd looked at him oddly for a moment but before she could question him further, Professor Rowle had entered the classroom and called the class to order.

"Today I wanted to officially announce the start of the Defense clubs," Professor Rowle started as the students settled into their desks and quieted down.

"Quite a few of you signed up to participate and I am very happy with all the interest I have gotten for this. Those who were selected for the Advanced group will be notified individually with specific instructions for the time and place of the meeting. Unless you receive one of these notices, simply come to the Intermediate group meeting that will be held Saturday afternoon from two o'clock until four. The club will be held in one of the larger, unused, classrooms. It's on the third floor, right-hand side. Four doors down after exiting the grand staircase, just before the turn-off into the Serpentine Corridor. Does anyone not know what room I'm talking about?"

He paused and looked around, but no one spoke up so he nodded and continued.

"Alright then. Now that that's out of the way, let's continue with the class then, shall we?"

And with that, Professor Rowle slipped back into the class work they'd begun discussing on Monday and there was no further discussion on the club.

Hermione anxiously kept a lookout for her notice for the Advanced club for the rest of Thursday, and all of Friday. When Saturday morning rolled around, she was clearly disgruntled at not having gotten it, and grudgingly followed Harry out of the Common Room and down to the third-floor classroom that the club meeting was being held in.

Of course, during all of these days, Harry had been doing his alternating back and forth between the manor and Hogwarts, so it had been six days, instead of three for him. After all this time, he'd slipped into a fairly comfortable routine and was even growing accustomed to how odd it was to be living twice as many days as everyone around him.

He was actually in an exceedingly good mood that morning because the previous night he and Tom had spent the night in their new bedroom in the Abbey for the first time. While they had been visiting the Abbey and working on preparing it for weeks, this was the first night they had actually slept there.

It still wasn't ready for the rest of the Death Eaters, but they were slowly making the transition themselves, and Harry was gradually becoming just as comfortable in the new castle as he had always felt in the manor. They had begun to move all of Tom's magically transfigured exercise equipment to a large parlour at the castle that they had expanded and transformed to suit the new purpose they needed. The Lab was almost done, the dungeon cells were coming along nicely, and all of the portraits had now been relocated to the West Wing and put into rooms there where they couldn't be accessed by any Death Eaters. The elves had successfully repaired and cleaned up all of the castle interior now, as well as resealing the windows and fixing any water damage from leakage. The elves were now focusing most of their efforts on the extensive gardens, even though Tom thought it was a bit unnecessary.

When they weren't fixing up the castle, or back at the manor holding a few Death Eater meetings, they were practicing the parselmagic phase spell. Harry was finding it to be an exceedingly difficult spell to get a handle on so far. It took a tremendous amount of his focus and he wondered how he could make it useable in any practical situation. Tom insisted that with practice it would become more natural and easier to perform. Harry only hoped he was right.

Harry's mind was so distracted by his thoughts and plans for the castle, the parsel spell, as well as his continued pondering on the revelations of his ancestor Jheames' portrait from the start of that week, that he bumped into Hermione's back as they came up to the group standing and waiting outside the closed classroom door.

Harry blinked, bringing his mind back to the present and letting his eyes roam over the large crowd.

He knew that Thor would be finishing the activation of the room's wards. Eight ward stones were placed in each of the corners of the room to create a temporary protective field from the school's Dark magic detection wards. Normally, lesser Dark spells performed within the school's wards would get logged but usually no alarms were sounded, however any higher-level Dark magic performed within the castle's walls would alert the Headmaster immediately. The ward stones were designed to prevent that. Of course, no high level Dark magic would be performed in the Intermediate group, but Harry knew that Thor wanted to get into the practice of having them set up for every 'club' meeting.

The ward stones would hold a charge long enough to prevent the castle wards from logging anything for a solid four hours. After that, they had to go through a simple recharging process to be used again. Recharging didn't take long, but they had to be deactivated while charging. Tom had developed the ward system and the stones, of course. It had been either that, or hold the club meetings in the Room of Requirement, which Harry and Tom had decided was simply not an option. They didn't want the whole of the student body to be aware of that particular treasured secret.

So ward stones it was.

The gathered group of students was quite large, and Harry wondered for a moment if the room would even be large enough to handle them all. It was probably the largest classroom in the school – which was why it was never used anymore since there were rarely classes large enough to warrant it – and yet, Harry wasn't sure if they'd have enough room inside to move freely with such a big group.

But he expected some of those who had shown up today would probably give up on the idea after they saw how grueling the 'club' would be, and not return again. Thor had no intention of having this experience be 'easy' or 'fun' for anyone. They wanted to weed out the weak, quickly.

Looking over the group, Harry saw that his expectations for who would be in attendance were mostly correct. The group was comprised of more Ravenclaws than anything else, although there was quite a fair number of Gryffindors. Ravenclaws had come for the opportunity for further academic expansion, while the Gryffindors were there because they wanted to learn to duel. Chances were high that once the Gryffindors realized how much _work_ was going to be involved, many of them would lose interest.

The low turnout of Slytherin students, Harry knew, was really, because most of them had been put straight into the 'Advanced' group where they would skip any silly pretense about defensive magic, and go straight into Dark Arts instruction.

Suddenly the door to the classroom opened up and Professor Rowle stood there for a moment before standing to the side and gesturing the large group to come inside. As soon as everyone was in the large open room, he closed the doors and walked through the group to the head of the room.

There were no desks in the room, and the floor had been transfigured so that it was squishy, as if it were made of tumbling mats. Some of the students were bouncing slightly on the balls of their feet as they experimented with the floor, giggling and joking to each other playfully.

After waiting a minute for everyone to settle down Rowle cleared his throat.

"Welcome to the new Hogwarts Dueling and Defense Association. As I explained in my Defense classes, the purpose of this club is to try and make up for the pitiful defensive magic education you have all had access to up until this point. In class, I will do my best to make sure you all know the minimum necessary to fully succeed in your proficiency exams. In this club, I will make sure you actually know how to fight and defend yourselves, magically; have hands on experience doing so; and are prepared for any real-world situations that could arise that would demand the knowledge and ability to fight.

"This is not a club for fun," Rowle paused and looked out over the silent gathering of students with a piercing gaze. "You are not here to hang out with your friends. You are not here so that you have a free pass to start throwing stunners around. You will not be allowed to stay or be welcome to return, if you do not take this class seriously. Participating in the DDA will require a lot of hard work, dedication to the work, and personal commitment. I expect everyone who comes to this class to give it their all, or leave. This is not a part of the Hogwarts curriculum and no one is required to be here. I am not even being compensated for this; I am doing it on my own time. I do not owe you anything. I am already doing you a favor just by providing you with the opportunity to be here. If you do not take it seriously, or I don't feel that you are up to the task, you will leave. Am I understood?"

Quiet murmurs of 'Yes, sir,' could be heard throughout the large room.

"Good. Now, because this is a much larger group that I usually have to deal with in a class, I have arranged for a student-teacher to help me out. If you have questions, you can ask him and he will probably have an answer for you. If he tells you to do something, you will listen to him. If you are misbehaving, he can take points and I will back them up. Mr. Potter? Will you come to the front?"

Hermione blinked and her head whipped to the side as she gaped at Harry in surprise. He just smirked a bit and shrugged with an unapologetic grin as he quickly left her side and made his way to the front of the class.

"I'm sure everyone in here is at least passing familiar with Mr. Potter," Rowle said as Harry came to a stop, standing directly beside him. "Mr. Potter will be assisting me in running this club. I chose him because he proved to me that he possessed both the knowledge, practical experience, and leadership skills necessary to do the job. That means he has my complete faith and you should show him proper respect. Even those of you who are older than he is," Rowle said, pausing for a moment to give a pointed look at a group of seventh years that looked decidedly unhappy with the professor's last few statements.

"Now, as I'm sure you've all noticed, there are no desks in this room. There will be no essays due for this group, and no written assignments. I will, occasionally, ask that you read up on some subjects in your own free time, but I'm not going to quiz you or test you on it. It will be obvious to me whether or not you did the proper work by your performance. Mostly this group will focus on learning specific spells, and then practicing them in groups. In the beginning, we'll be working in pairs, but by the end of the year, I intend to set you into large groups to simulate larger battle situations. Real-life encounters with magical enemies will rarely be under so-called 'fair' circumstances. Being able to defend yourself, and escape from danger, when outnumbered is a vital skill and I intend to impart it on all of you.

"Now, before we really get started, I'm going to give you all a demonstration of the sort of duel I expect you all to be capable of fighting by the end of the year, if you are able to survive this group's grueling pace until the end."

With that he paused and turned to Harry who flicked his wrist and instantly had his holly wand in his hand. Rowle's wand was in his hand an instant later. The two took a few steps back from each other and bowed.

What followed was a relatively tame duel by all reasonable accounts. They only used spells that were going to be covered over the course of the DDA's lessons, as well as the basic defense spells covered up until 5th year. Or at least, the basic defense spells that _would_ be covered up until 5th year if a consistent instruction was given.

While the duel was 'tame' they both used several mild Dark spells. Spells that weren't _obviously_ Dark, but looked fairly impressive, all things considered. Harry noticed, as he sent a seemingly powerful purple jet of jagged light at Thor, that the man only barely managed to dodge, that several of the students looked on with apparent awe.

Harry and Thor ended the duel on a draw, neither actually disarming the other, but simply calling a truce. They then turned to the group of students and asked if there were any questions. Several of the seventh years eagerly asked about specific spells used that they had never seen or heard of before, to which Thor and Harry both answered with honest answers as to the names of each specified spell. A short time later, the room was split into two groups by skill – Thor took the seventh years and a couple sixth years to one side of the room, while Harry took the rest to the other. Each demonstrated a specific spell and its counter to their group and then set them to pairs to practice.

Harry walked around the group correcting form, pronunciation, and wand movement, while everyone attempted to either hex their partner, or block and counter the hex being aimed at them.

Hermione had ended up partnering with Neville, since Harry wasn't available as a partner and Ginny was paired up with Luna. Ron hadn't come because he wanted to get in some extra practice on the Quidditch pitch in preparation for the tryouts the following day. Harry could tell that Hermione was getting extraordinarily frustrated with Neville's inability to perform the spell, but was trying to be patient and not openly show her irritation.

Harry paused, cocked his head slightly to the side, and observed Neville as he struggled with his magic. Harry could see and _feel_ the magic around Neville as he attempted to cast the spell, but it almost seemed as if it were ramming into some sort of blockage. Neville clearly had quite a bit of magical power inside him – Harry could sense it – but the boy didn't seem able to focus and control it at all.

Harry's attention focused in on Neville's wand and his eyes narrowed.

"Hey Neville?" Harry asked, coming up to him. Neville looked utterly dejected, and when Harry came over to him, he looked as if he were about to cry.

"Yeah, Harry?" Neville asked timidly.

"Is that your wand?" Harry asked.

Neville looked confused and nodded his head slowly. "Er... yeah. It's the same wand I've always had."

"Well, yeah, what I mean is, did it choose you, or is it a hand-me-down?"

"Oh," Neville replied with a dawning understanding in his eyes. "Well, it was my dad's wand, actually."

"You couldn't afford a new wand?" Harry asked, with mild incredulity.

"Er, not really, that wasn't the problem. My Gran said it was an honor for me to use my dad's wand so..."

Harry scoffed. "Family honor is no excuse for stunting your magic. You need a different wand, Nev. That thing doesn't work with you at all."

Neville's eyes went wide and he looked a bit horrified by the suggestion. "But I couldn't! Gran would never let me get another wand. Besides, how would I? I can't exactly leave school to go visit Diagon Alley, can I? And there aren't any stores that sell wands in Hogsmeade..."

Harry twisted up his mouth and looked thoughtful for a moment before it twisted into a smile. "I know just what to do. Hang around after the class is over and I'll take you somewhere. Okay?"

Neville looked unsure, but finally agreed. Hermione was giving Harry a questioning look, but didn't actually ask him while Neville was still there. Harry stepped away and resumed his observations of the rest of his group, occasionally going to groups that had managed to get a hang on the first spell, and demonstrating a second one for them to practice.

This continued for another hour before the first meeting of the DDA was drawn to a close and everyone was dismissed. Neville lingered behind, fidgeting nervously as he stood by the door, waiting as Harry finished talking with Professor Rowle about some things. Hermione stuck around too and walked over to Neville, trying to give him some advice to try and reassure him after his rather pathetic performance during the club meeting.

Finally, Harry walked over to Neville and Hermione, giving Neville a reassuring smile. "So, Nev – you ever been to Hogwarts' Lost and Found room?" Harry asked.

Neville blinked. "Lost and found room?" he echoed in confusion.

"I'll take that as a no." Harry said, chuckling. Even Hermione looked confused so Harry quickly went on to explain. "A friend who graduated from Hogwarts a while ago actually told me about it, so I'll admit that even I barely even realized it existed. I was really only aware of it because it's on this er... _map_ of the school that I've got." Harry paused and gave Hermione a significant glance, and she quickly realized what he was talking about. "Anyway, I knew it existed before, but I'd never bothered going there, you know? So anyway, this friend of mine told me about it over the summer. The Lost and Found room is where the house elves sort and store all objects that are found left behind at the end of each school year. If an object has been in the Lost and Found room for more than seven years, it's free to anyone who wants it because it's assumed that whoever lost it has probably graduated and has missed out on the chance to claim their stuff.

"So," Harry paused, letting his words sink in, "my intention is to go there now, look through the boxes of wands, and see if any of them chose you. Are you game?"

"Boxes of wands?" Hermione exclaimed. "Are you saying that there are _wands_ there?"

"Yup," Harry said with absolute certainty. "You've got to realize, Hermione. This room has the lost and found objects from literally _hundreds _of years of students. Do you really think that _no one_ has ever lost a wand here?"

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment. "I suppose it would eventually happen."

"It probably happens more than you realize. Anyway, let's go, shall we?"

Neville still looked rather unsure, but he followed Harry anyway. The three of them made their way down the corridor, up through the grand staircase, and down another corridor until Harry led them through a door that neither Hermione, nor Neville, had ever really paid attention to before.

Harry pulled it open and stepped through. Hermione and Neville stepped inside and both gaped in shock at the massive room they found before them. Rows upon rows of shelves were in lines behind a small desk with a house elf sitting at it. It looked up, squeaked in excitement and quickly scurried around the desk to stand before Harry.

"Young Masters!" it gasped in excitement. "How can Minnie be helpings yous? Yous be losing something, yes?"

"Actually," Harry said, smiling down at the little creature, "we haven't specifically lost anything, but I was wondering if my friend could go through the boxes of lost wands. His wand broke and he can't go out and buy a new one until the holidays. I suggested he check here to see if any of the abandoned wands would chose him, or be a close enough match for him to use it."

"Oh! Oh, of course! But yous know that you can't be taking any wandies that are being here less than seven years?"

"I know. So can we see them?"

The little creature bobbed her head excitedly before snapping her fingers. A moment later a large box dislodged itself from far back in one of the rows of shelving and flew through the air to come rest upon the elf's desk.

Harry walked over and shuffled his hand around inside it for a moment before looking back over his shoulder at Neville.

"Coming, Nev?" Harry asked with a smirk. Neville started out of his stunned stupor and hurried over to Harry's side.

The elf hovered for a moment, asking if there was anything else she could help them with. Harry told her no, for now, and thanked her for her help. Harry began guiding Neville through the process of testing the wands and Hermione took the opportunity to speak with the elf, 'Minnie', and ask her questions about elf history. The little elf got rather timid and reluctant, but answered some Hermione's questions anyway.

Neville went through each wand, one at a time, giving each a hesitant swish or flick with the continued prodding by Harry. About twenty minutes passed with no results and Neville was becoming increasingly disheartened. Harry tried to cheer him up by telling him just how long it took for him to find his wand at Ollivander's, but that didn't seem to really cheer Neville up much.

Another fifteen minutes passed, filled with rejected wands. The box of abandoned wand was still very full, but Harry suspected it was a magically expanded space inside. There were a _lot _of wands that had been lost over the last thousand years. Neville put his hand in to grab another wand and gasped suddenly.

Harry's head jerked up and he looked at Neville. "Find something?"

Neville swallowed thickly. "I thought I felt something, but I dropped the wand."

Harry chuckled and looked into the box. "Try to find it again."

Neville brushed his fingertips over all of the wands directly below his hand until he apparently found the wand he had just dropped. Hesitantly, he raised his hand, holding the wand in a loose grip and looking at it with wide, stunned eyes.

"What do you feel?" Harry asked in a hushed voice.

"It's..." Neville began to say, but his voice seemed to die in his throat.

"Totally different than holding your dad's wand, isn't it?" Harry asked with a smirk.

"It is," Neville whispered.

"Try casting a spell." Harry suggested, eagerly. Hermione's attention was back on the boys now and she looked equally anxious.

Neville held the wand tighter and looked at it. "What spell?" he asked, unsure.

Harry dug into his book bag and pulled out his potions textbook and set it down on one of the tables along the wall by the door. "Summon this book. You know the Accio charm, right?"

Neville paled considerably and shook his head. "I er... I know it. But it's never worked for me. I could never get anything to come to me. At most, they'd twitch a little."

"Well, then that's a perfect test. Summon the book." Harry encouraged.

Neville swallowed thickly again and nodded his head with a weak air of determination. He pointed the new wand at the book and said "Accio book!"

The book instantly flew up and across the small space. Neville yelped in surprise and ducked just in time for the book to go soaring over his head.

Harry laughed and pulled out his own wand to summon the book back from where ever it went flying. He caught it easily and stuck it back into his bag just as Neville was standing back up and looking back down at the wand in his hand with awe and shock.

"Great job, Nev!" Harry exclaimed with a grin.

"I can't believe I did it!" Neville gasped.

"That was fantastic, Neville!" Hermione exclaimed, beaming at him.

"See how big a difference it makes to have a wand your magic can actually connect with?" Harry asked, rhetorically. "I bet this will make a huge difference in classes."

Neville nodded his head slowly, still looking down at his new wand with disbelief.

"Can I see it, Nev?" Harry asked, pointing at the wand.

Neville blinked up at Harry for a moment before handing it over. "Oh, sure."

Harry waved his own wand over it, silently incanting the same spell that Tom had used all those months ago to determine what his cypress wand's properties were. Harry could see a magically generated display of information glow over the wand that no one but he could see. His brows rose slightly in surprise at what he saw.

"What is it?" Neville asked, sounding worried.

"It's yew and hair from an urisk's tail; twelve inches long. Obviously not an Ollivander wand since he doesn't use urisk hair," Harry answered.

"How can you tell what it is?" Hermione asked with interest.

"Simple detection spell. I'll teach it to you, if you want." Harry said with a shrug and Hermione responded with an eager nod.

"Yew and urisk hair..." Neville echoed with a bit of wonder in his voice as Harry handed the wand back.

Harry turned to the elf, Minnie, and thanked her for her help. She snapped her fingers and all of the wands flew back into the box, before she sent it flying back down the row of shelves where it came from.

The three left the Lost and Found room with Neville thanking Harry for all his help and Harry brushing it off. He cast a tempus and saw that it was nearing time for dinner. He would need to keep his meal short since he had to go help Thor set up for the Dark Arts club at 6:30. The 'club' would be meeting from seven until nine o'clock that evening, and Harry needed to be ready before anyone else showed up.

– –

During dinner, Harry just barely managed to dodge Hermione's questions about him being the assistant in the defense club, by insisting that they would discuss it later. He ate a quick meal before hurrying off to meet Thor for the Dar Arts club.

Thor was waiting for Harry in the room with the eight ward stones – newly recharged and ready for the class. Harry helped him place them in each corner of the large rectangular room and attach them, before activating them all in proper sequence. While Harry was finishing up that, Thor brought out the secrecy contract and set it on a table in the front-center of the room with a blood quill beside it.

In addition to the ward stones, the pair cast several layers of secrecy wards and privacy wards, and they had just finished casting all of the needed security precautions when it reached seven o'clock. Harry headed to the far end of the room, stood in a corner, cast a disillusionment spell over himself _and_ pulled his invisibility cloak over his head.

Once Thor was sure that Harry was sufficiently concealed, he went over to the door and opened it up. A fair-sized group of students had already gathered there and they quickly made their way inside, once Thor had stood aside.

The space filled up, and at 7:05, Thor closed and sealed the door.

"Welcome, to all of you," Thor started as he walked over and stood beside the table with the contract. "I know that a great deal of you already have your suspicions as to the nature of this group. Quite a few of you are here solely because your parents instructed you to attend, and I know they have likely alluded to some things, and you've made your own assumptions from that. But before I can actually tell you the specifics of what we will be doing in this group, I must insist that everyone who is serious about participating _must_ first and foremost be willing to sign this magical confidentiality contract."

He paused and looked out over the group as they murmured to each other, and several had very cautious or concerned expressions on their faces. Most of them were from old wizarding families and were very much aware of how dangerous a magical contract could be depending on the severity of the consequences for breaking it.

"This contract is for my protection as well as yours. It is a secrecy contract. Nothing that occurs in this room, during these lessons, can be discussed or written about, outside of these gatherings. No one who signs this contract will be able to relay anything about anyone else here, to anyone outside this group. The magic of this contract is monumentally powerful. It will not only prevent anyone from willfully revealing anyone else's actions or secrets, but it will stop anyone who might try to force the information from you. No one will be able to steal the knowledge through means of Legilimency, or even through the use of veritaserum. It is _that_ powerful.

"With these measures in place, you will not feel the pressure to hold back or restrain yourself from fully taking advantage of this learning opportunity. This is going to be a place where you can learn and I want everyone to feel free and able to perform to their full potential without fear of being _tattled_ on. Obviously, I also want these security measures in place for my own protection since I will be putting my own career and _freedom_ on the line in order to teach you things that are not necessary approved by some people in power."

He paused again, allowing it all to sink in.

"Now, everyone here must sign this contract. If you do not feel comfortable doing that, then you should leave now."

Thor motioned to the contract on the table and stood to the side.

The group muttered quietly for a moment, most of them eyeing the contract with slight hesitation. Draco Malfoy was the first to move. He strode forward with his usual, confident swagger, and picked up the blood quill with a flourish and signed his name. He turned around to face the group with his chin up and a smirk on his lips before walking back out into the crowd. The other fifth year Slytherins immediately followed his example and each one walked up and signed their names to the contract. A line formed behind them and after about ten minutes had passed, everyone in the room had signed the contract.

Once it appeared that everyone was done, Thor walked over to the contract and tapped his wand on it while silently sending it the proper command. Two faint glows appeared in the room. One out in the midst of the crowd, and one in the corner where Harry was concealed. The group of students looked around in mild confusion. They parted and the one person in the crowd who was glowing was revealed.

"Mr. Simmons. It would appear you haven't signed the contract. Are you seriously interested in staying, or will you be leaving?" Thor asked in clipped tones as numerous people shot the Ravenclaw 6th year suspicious glares.

Simmons swallowed thickly before walking forward to the table, picking up the quill and pausing with it over the parchment as he took a moment to read over the text written at the top. Finally, he signed it, set the quill down and walked back to the crowd with his head stubbornly raised in the air.

"What was the other glow? Over there, in the corner?" one of the students called out as Thor came back over to stand beside the table again.

"That was the individual who will be my assistant for this class. We decided to wait to reveal his identity to you all until you had all signed the contract, and to wait for him to sign it until you could all witness it, to help assuage the concerns that I'm sure many of you will have."

Thor turned towards the corner that Harry had been standing in.

"Mr. Potter? Care to grace us all with your presence?"

A couple gasps escaped the mouths of a few students as Harry pulled off his cloak and canceled his disillusionment spell.

"What is _he_ doing here?" someone yelled in angry voice, while several other loud and angry mutterings filled the room.

Harry walked forward confidently despite the outcries of anger and shock and signed his name on the contract. He turned around the faced the group with sharp eyes, not saying a word and yet managing to quiet the group of them anyway.

"The Dark Lord has returned," Harry said suddenly in a loud, authoritative voice, bringing few gasps and then absolute silence, instantly to the room. "And I stand with him." Harry continued and watched with mild amusement as several expressions of disbelief and incredulity graced the gathered student's faces.

Thor came up to Harry's side, pulled up his left sleeve and deactivated the glamour that kept his Dark Mark hidden. He held his arm into the air, displaying his mark for the room to see.

"I vouch for Potter." Thor spoke in his booming voice. "Despite what you all may have heard or read in the Prophet, he did not spend his summer with some mysterious _friend_. He spent his summer living in the Dark Lord's headquarters, learning Dark magic, and attending Death Eater meetings and training sessions. Mr. Potter was personally trained by the Dark Lord, and is now willing to relay much of what he has learned to you... if you are willing to listen."

"_Potter_? With the Dark Lord?" someone exclaimed in obvious disbelief.

"But he's the Boy-Who-Lived!"

"He's Dumbledore's puppet!"

"It's a trick!"

"He's a spy!"

"It's true! I saw him there." Draco drawled in a loud, yet calm voice and all those around him quieted to look at him with wide, stunned eyes.

"What do you mean, you saw him there?" a seventh year Slytherin asked.

Draco smirked. "When my father took me to see the Dark Lord this summer, I spoke with Potter. He _was_ living there. I attended a meeting with the Dark Lord, _and Potter was there_."

Harry could tell that Draco had probably been _dying_ to brag about having been to see the Dark Lord, and now that he was under the protection of the secrecy contract, he was finally free to do just that.

"_You_ were taken to the Dark Lord?" A disbelieving voice called out.

"Is the Dark Lord truly back?"

"But he's dead! How could he be back?"

"Not even the Dark Lord could come back from the dead!"

"You dare to doubt the Dark Lord?"

"He was never truly defeated! Only a fool would believe that the most powerful Dark Lord could –"

"Why would he allow _you_ to attend a meeting with him? Let alone bloody _Potter?_" One of the older students snarled to Draco.

"My father is one of his most trusted and loyal followers!" Draco spat back. "_He_ wanted to speak with me because he has plans for Hogwarts and He realized that I would be able to help him!"

"You're only a fifth year! You're not even qualified! Why would the Dark Lord trust a bloody _fifth year_ with anything as important as –"

More angry voices rang throughout the hall as the arguing began anew, rising to a mind-numbing cacophony. Harry raised his wand hand into the air, shooting a powerful burst of Dark angry red light, surrounded by a black swirl of ooze-like mist that hit the ceiling, exploded in a powerful web-like shockwave that spread across the stone before fading away. The surge of magic shook the group so powerfully that several of those gathered fell to their knees, and the rest were stunned into silence.

The spell was _Dark_. Powerfully _Dark_, and no one there with a Dark affinity, could deny it or its power. The angry calls had silenced instantly, and those gathered were now looking on with a mixture of shock and disbelief at the one who had cast it.

"Next to none of you actually know me," Harry began to speak, breaking the heavy silence. "The _real_ me. Of course, everyone _thinks_ they know me, but let me be the first to tell you that whatever you _think_ you know about me? Forget it. I'll _tell_ you who I am. I am a Dark wizard. I have killed. I have tortured. I stand by the Dark Lord and I will remain by his side through the coming war. I am a snake in the lion's den. I have the trust and the confidence of the leader of the Light, and am in a position to spy on the Dark Lord's enemies without being subjected to their suspicion. They, like many of you, truly believe that I am on the Light's side, but I _Am Not._

"This class will teach the Dark Arts. It is being taught by two wizards who have both sworn their absolute loyalty to the Dark Lord and his cause. This does not mean that you, by participating in this class, are required to join him after graduation. However, the fact remains that many of you have family members who have already taken the Dark Lord's mark. Upon graduation, quite a few of you are likely to follow in their footsteps. The Dark Lord has lent his personal assistance in this endeavor because he knows this. He would prefer that his future followers come to him already at least partially trained and prepared to take their place in the coming war.

"The contract that you all just signed, and that _I_ just signed, was created by the Dark Lord himself. The ward stones that are currently placed in this room, preventing the Headmaster's wards from logging our spells, and reporting on our activities, were created and prepared by the Dark Lord. If anyone here is under the delusion that they could find some sort of loophole to get around the contract should the need arise – _know this! _ Any willful attempts to circumvent the spells placed upon the contract to protect us and to protect _you –_ willful attempts to _squeal_ to the Headmaster, or the other Professors, or the Ministry – these attempts will get you _killed!_ The consequences of breaking this contract are severe! The Dark Lord does not wish for his return to become public knowledge yet. He is preparing his followers in secret, but he is also trying to subtly infiltrate the Ministry so that his take-over will go through with as little resistance as possible. As such, he is not willing to risk all of that just because you wanted to brag to your friends, or because you got the idea in your head to try and blackmail someone, or because you thought you could boast and earn yourself some rep or respect by boasting."

Harry stopped and looked out over the room. The room was filled with stunned silence and many sets of large, startled eyes were focused right on him.

"If anyone here doesn't think they can handle the pressure, you should leave. Leave, and don't come back. If you don't think you can handle the workload, you should leave. We will be expecting you to perform beyond your best. You will give your all to this class, or you won't attend. This is a serious subject that we are teaching here. _This is the Dark Arts_. We will be learning powerful and dangerous spells here. This is going to be serious business and there will be no tolerance of anyone fooling around. If you are going to stick around and continue to attend our meetings, then you will have to accept _my_ leadership and my _authority_. If you can handle the pressure, the responsibility, and accept learning from _me_, then stay.

"Attending this class is an opportunity that you would be a fool to pass up. Not only the opportunity to learn the Dark Arts while in school, but the opportunity to learn from Professor Rowle; the opportunity to learn from _me._"

Thor took the lead again and began to explain the plan for the class; what would be covered, and how often they would meet. They would have holding 'class' twice a week, in the evenings, for two hours.

Thor did a quick survey of how much actual exposure and practice in the Dark Arts the gathered students had. Some had been taught by their parents, or by privately hired tutors during the summer, but others only had a very fleeting familiarity with actually performing Dark spells. The group was split into two – the experienced students and the inexperienced ones. Thor took the inexperienced group to get them started since it was the first introduction of Dark magic that could be the most overwhelming, and required the most guidance.

Harry took the others and demonstrated a couple spells of varying degrees of difficulty. The gathered students seemed less than eager to follow him, and there were a few – mostly seventh-years – who were giving him a hard time.

One boy with an especially sharp tongue found himself on the other end of Harry's wand, and then quickly on the floor screaming as Harry threw a _Crucio_ at him for about ten seconds.

The group stared in utter shock, but quite a few looked rather impressed.

"You should consider yourself lucky. I've held Death Eaters under that curse for _minutes_ for less than what you just said." Harry spat at the shaking boy as he tried to pick himself up off the floor.

Harry sneered at him in mild disgust. "That your first time under the Cruciatus?" he asked in an airy voice. The boy looked up at Harry with an expression that seemed uncertain whether to be angry or to be terrified.

"What's your name?" Harry asked when he didn't get an answer to his last question.

"Nero Crockett," the boy said, finally getting to his feet and raising his head proudly into the air.

"Crockett? You related to Lennox Crockett?"

Crockett's eye twitched slightly. "He's my father."

"You're father's a fairly powerful wizard, Crockett. He's in the Dark Lord's Advanced group, did you know that? I've seen him duel. I've also seen him scream and writhe on the floor under the Dark Lord's Cruciatus when he repeatedly screwed up a spell and finally got on the Dark Lord's nerves, and I can guarantee that _His_ Cruciatus would hurt a hell of a lot more and last a hell of a lot longer than what I just did to you."

Crockett paled and his eyes widened as he swallowed a lump in his throat.

"Do you intend to follow in your father's footsteps, Crockett? Will you be taking the Dark Mark? Will you fight for the Dark and help to restore our world to its proper glory?" Harry asked imperiously.

Crockett's chest puffed out slightly and he rose his head even more proudly into the air than before.

"I will," he said with a determined air.

"Then you need to learn to show proper respect for your betters. The Dark Lord would never stand for such cheek in his presence." Harry hissed menacingly.

Crockett's face flushed with anger, but his eyes were filled with fear and he gave Harry a curt nod.

Harry turned his gaze on the gathered students who were all watching the scene unfold with shock and awe.

"Back to work!" Harry bellowed sharply and everyone quickly returned to their dueling partners and practicing their spells.

– –

That night Harry had gone back to the manor as usual, used the time-turner to go back 24-hours and met up with Tom. He and Tom had quickly apparated to the Abbey and spent the night there as had become their new routine. With morning, the pair went through their morning workout, shower and breakfast before returning to the manor to deal with a couple Death Eater meetings.

For a couple weeks now, Harry had dedicated at least one hour each day he spent with Tom at the manor, to practicing the stealth parsel-phase spell that he had gotten from the book that Tom had, had him collect from the Chamber.

After a few weeks of practice, he was now successfully able to phase every time he tried it. The trick was holding it for any prolonged period of time. He wasn't yet good enough to do it without significant concentration, and the moment anything distracted him, he would unphase and become visible and solid again. Tom was learning it with him, which was a new experience for Harry since it always seemed as if the elder wizard already knew _everything_.

It was interesting phasing at the same time that Tom did, since they phased into the same plane of alternate space. They could see and even touch each other while phased, but no one else could see them as long as they properly held their focus, and they could even pass through most solid objects.

Harry compared it to being like a ghost, but Tom insisted it was nothing like being a spirit at all. This comment had instantly set a pit into Harry's stomach, suddenly realizing how insensitive his comment had been considering the fact that Tom had been forced to exist as little more than a spirit for more than a decade.

He meekly apologized, but Tom brushed it off and told him he was being stupid and to stop it immediately, which brought a weak grin across Harry's lips.

At the end of the day, Harry portkeyed back to Hogwarts to spend his Saturday night in Gryffindor tower.

–


	20. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary: Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta Pass tannne

AN: Warning – this chapter contains a sex scene. It is marked so you can skip it.

So the major event that happens towards the end of this chapter? Totally unplanned. Lol. It just sort of happened. I was writing and suddenly it happened and I had to pause and look at it and go – well, damn, that was unexpected. Tom surprised even me with that one.

– –

Chapter 19

Harry and Hermione met in the common room very early Sunday morning and headed down to breakfast. After quickly eating some toast and bacon, the two continued down to the dungeons and into their private brewing room. They spent the next two hours setting up and preparing all of the ingredients for the complicated ancestry potion.

Carefully, Hermione began adding in various ingredients in the proper amounts and in the proper order. Small jars were set in prepared amounts to the side of the cauldron, each carefully labeled with the date and time they should be added, equally spanned out over the next month. The last ingredient to be added that morning was Hermione's own blood. She held the small athame dagger in one hand, blade a few centimeters from her palm, and shaking slightly with nerves. Harry's hand stretched out and gently grasped her shaking hand and steadied the blade.

Hermione took in a deep, calming breath and drew the sharp blade across her hand, cleanly splitting open her own flesh. She grimaced in pain and quickly held it out over the bubbling cauldron to let the blood drip down into the concoction. Harry pointed his wand at the cauldron and began a quiet chant in Latin. Tendrils of powerful Dark magic leaked from his wand, down into the potion, calming the angry boiling bubble into a fast-paced clockwise spin. The moment he finished speaking, the spinning liquid changed color from a deep purple muck, into a thin, steamy, yellow-white fluid with red swirls.

Hermione drew her hand back and Harry quickly pointed his wand at it and healed the cut with a simple _E__piskey._

Hermione took in another deep breath and gave Harry a shaky smile before thanking him again for helping her with all this.

The two were done by the time lunch rolled around and they cleaned up what they could before locking the door to the private brewing room and making their way up to the Great Hall.

Ron and Ginny were both already there, sitting with the twins and talking animatedly about the Quidditch team tryouts that would be held right after lunch. Harry rolled his eyes a bit at their eagerness and Hermione grinned at him.

Harry sat with the group of them, but participated in the conversation very little. He was already _on_ the team, and Angelina wasn't making the old team members re-tryout for their old positions. Being the team's Seeker, Harry hardly needed to go to the tryouts at all, but he knew everyone was expecting his participation, so he couldn't skip it.

"So, Harry –" Hermione had said as she turned away from the Weasley's as they got embroiled into a deep debate on Quidditch plays.

"Yes, Hermione?" Harry asked, looking up from his plate.

"Will you tell me now why you never told me about helping out Professor Rowle with the club?"

Harry blinked. "Oh er... well, partially, I think I wanted it to be a surprise." Harry said with an apologetic shrug. "I erm... was also a bit worried that you'd be upset."

"Why would I be upset?" she asked, looking hurt.

"Well, I was afraid that you'd think he was showing me preferential treatment because of who I am and because I met him over the summer. He only came to me and asked me if I would be interested in helping with the club a little over a week ago."

"Well, I hardly see it as preferential treatment. Besides, you only met him a few times over the summer, right?"

"Right."

"I know that some of our classmates were actually tutored by him every summer for years. If he was going to pick someone because they were a favorite student of his he could have easily picked one he'd known for years, but he didn't. He picked you. I know how much studying you did last year in prep for the tournament. You probably know more defensive spells than even the seventh years do. Plus, you've actually used defensive magic in real, life threatening situations. It's not just theoretical knowledge, you've had the opportunity to put into practical use. I don't doubt for a second, Harry, that you deserve the position."

Harry ducked his head in mock embarrassment or flattery and smiled bashfully. "Thanks."

Hermione sighed. "I was just a bit upset that you didn't tell me."

Harry shrugged, still keeping his head low. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I was a little worried because I knew you were expecting to get into the advanced group."

"Oh, Harry. I'm sorry if I made you feel pressured. I know I made a big deal about it last night, but I was just being stupid. I realize you probably had absolutely no say in who got into which group anyway."

"The Advanced group is really all seventh years, anyways. Mostly people who intend to be Aurors and such. It's really grueling, and almost all practical application. Dueling exercises and stuff. And while you're brilliant with all the knowledge about defense that you've got crammed inside that overly clever brain of yours, you're practical work in defense is..." Harry trailed off, giving Hermione a weak, apologetic grimace.

Hermione sigh, and then smiled at him. "You're right, Harry. I'm sorry."

"It's fine. You didn't know, and I really should have just told you."

The two returned to their eating for a minute before Hermione looked up again. "That was really brilliant what you did for Neville, by the way."

Harry smiled softly and shrugged. "I didn't really do anything. Besides, it's downright horrifying that his grandmother would impair and stunt his magical growth just because of a sentimental attachment to his dad's wand. Wands are incredibly picky and a magical core that can't connect properly with a wand, will develop poorly. She's been doing Neville a great disservice by insisting he use that wand."

Hermione frowned but nodded her head. Harry knew that Hermione didn't actually know any of the details about Neville's parents and she was probably incredibly curious since it was obvious that Harry _did_ know. Harry was honestly a bit impressed that she didn't ask.

Finally, it was time for tryouts and Harry was dragged out to the pitch by the group of excited gingers. Hermione tagged along to watch from the stands. When Harry asked her if she was sure, she really wanted to attend, she pointed out that she had a book in her bag to read, so she wouldn't be _too_ bored. Harry chuckled in response.

Ginny and Ron both had to use the school's Clean Sweep brooms, and Harry caught Ron eyeing his Firebolt with obvious envy, but Ron had quickly darted his eyes away when he caught sight of Harry looking at him.

The turn-out for the tryouts were fairly large since Angelina had announced that she was forming a reserve team that would also be trained and have a good chance of making it to the real team the following year when most of the current team had graduated. Because of this, anyone interested in just about any position was welcome to come tryout. All of the old team members, minus Oliver Wood, of course, were still there. Fred and George, now in their seventh and final year, were there as the team's beaters. Angelina Johnson, the captain, was a chaser, along with Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell. Katie Bell was a sixth year, but Angelina and Alicia were both seventh years. And of course, Harry, the only fifth year, was the team's seeker. The only truly open spot was that of keeper, which was what Ron was truly hoping for. A few others were trying out for the position as well, but Harry didn't think that _any_ of them looked to have the proper build for it. Cormac McLaggen was probably the closest, and while Harry was quickly forming the opinion that McLaggen was an arrogant sod, he suspected the stupid git might be better suited for the position than Ron actually was.

After an hour of tryouts, and a keepers battle, Angelina gathered the old team members to 'compare notes' and opinions on who should make the reserve team, and who to chose for the Keeper position.

McLaggen and Ron had tied for saves in the end. Harry thought that McLaggen's form was better and he certainly had the confidence level for performing under pressure, however it was obvious that Harry wasn't the only one that had formed a poor opinion on the wizard's personality during the tryouts because in the end, Angelina picked Ron.

Three Gryffindors were chosen to be in the reserve team. Ginny would be a reserve chaser, and in the case of Harry being unable to perform, a reserve seeker. Two reserve beaters were selected. They were also fourth years, like Ginny. An Andrew Kirke and a Jack Sloper. As reserve members they weren't required to come to all of the team practices, but Angelina preferred it if they came to most.

While the tryouts had been, generally, a waste of time for Harry, he had come to realize something important while he flew around on his broom high over the pitch, observing the tryouts. Harry no longer had the proper build for a seeker. He could still do it, of course. It wasn't unheard of for a seeker to have some bulk on them, after all, however the smaller and sleeker the individual was, the better suited they were for the position since it demanded speed and agility above all else. Harry was no longer the scrawny, short, gangly youth he was even a year earlier. His use of the accelerant potion the previous year had added a considerable amount of bulk to his physique. His shoulders were wider and thus, less aerodynamic, and he was as a whole, much larger and heavier.

It made him realize that the practices would actually be at least slightly important in the coming months if he wanted to perform well during the actual games. He needed to relearn how to fly fast now that he had a considerably larger body.

When the tryouts were finally concluded, Harry hurried back inside the castle, thoroughly sick of the chill, and dreading the fact that it was only going to get colder. Flying on a broom in freezing sleet was definitely one of his least favorite activities, and if history was anything to go by, it was an activity that he would likely have to engage in often thanks to his position on the Quidditch team.

– –

The next two weeks – or four weeks, from Harry's perspective – seemed to pass rather quickly, all things considered. The plans and preparation training for the attack on Azkaban were coming along nicely. Tom was nearly finished with the wards around Morhda Abbey, and it would soon be ready for the Death Eaters to be informed of the move. Harry and Tom had continued to practice the parsel phase spell and were slowly making progress.

Tom and Harry had also completed construction of another group of training dummies that Harry had shrunk down and placed inside a space-expanded container, that he had then taken back to Hogwarts. The dummies were now being used in the bi-weekly Dark Arts Association, since the spells that he and Thor were teaching, the students were too dangerous for them to practice them on each other. Grouping up in pairs worked fine for the 'Dueling and Defense Association', or DDA, since most of them were working on stunners, and the most dangerous thing any of the higher years were using was an underpowered bludgeoning curse. However, this was definitely not the case for the 'Dark Arts Association', or DAA for short.

The DDA meetings only happened once a week, so Harry had only had two of those. Neville's performance in the second meeting was noticeably improved over the first week. In fact, his performance in all of his practical magic classes had improved. This didn't include Potions, however, and Hermione was still struggling to keep their potions from exploding, or going flat, during class.

Hermione simply could not stand for getting a zero for any class, and if their potion was banished by Snape, it meant a zero. Therefore, Hermione made it her focus in every potions class to make sure Snape never had any reason to do any such thing. It was stressful – doubly so since Hermione was trying to reassure Neville that she wasn't upset with him for holding her back in class.

Harry's other classes were going as expected. Arithmancy was actually becoming one of his favorite classes. What he was learning was also helping him to understand the work that Tom was currently completing with the wards around Morhda Abbey, and Harry had even been able to help a few times without direct guidance from Tom. Runes was also helping in that area, although they really weren't advanced enough in the subject for it to help him a lot with highly advanced warding magic.

His working with Ginny and Luna was going well. Both of them were also participating in the DDA meetings, and he often studied with them in the Library. Luna was definitely a strange one, but Harry was finding her quirky personality rather entertaining. She also said the strangest things sometimes. Half of what she said sounded utterly ridiculous, even to him, and yet there were other things she said that Harry _had_ actually heard of and knew were bits of extremely obscure knowledge that had been lost through the ages to most wizards. It made him wonder about the other things she said and how much of it might actually be valid.

He was spending a lot of his non-class time in the library or Great Hall studying for all of his classes ahead of time, and he was managing top marks in most all of his subjects, even coming into direct competition with Hermione's grades in all of the classes they shared. Even the previous year, when he had first started his vastly improved class performance after stopping the unnecessary waste of magic, fighting Tom's soul, Harry's essays had still been subpar to Hermione's work. And during that time, Harry had had the occasional assistance of his Companion. Harry had developed an instinctual understanding of magic, and that helped a lot, but school work often required memorization of historical facts, theories, and knowledge of who developed what charm and why, and those were things he could only learn by reading the textbooks and studying. Now his improved class performance was all a result of his own efforts, and he found himself quite proud of his performance and success.

Snape had, had another meeting with Voldemort and 'Evan Harris' the week prior and during that time had told them that a staff meeting had just been held, and that during it several of the Professors had made mention of Harry's academic improvement to the Headmaster.

None of the teachers seemed to consider it or any of Harry's recent behavior a trait to worry about. In fact, they had remarked that Harry seemed to have come out of his shell considerably since his rather reclusive behavior the previous year. A few had noticed that Harry seemed to be talking with a lot of students from other years and houses, and that quite a few students had been seen approaching Harry with questions in the Library, and in the Great Hall, and even in classes.

Thor had then informed them all that Harry was acting as a sort of student teacher in his defense club and that Harry was proving to be a very skilled instructor. He suggested that the students were probably approaching Harry with their questions because they could already see that Harry was quite intelligent and powerful and that he could likely help them – which was true.

Snape had gone on to grudgingly admitted that Harry's performance in his class had also improved, although Snape quickly attributed it to Harry having been partnered up with Draco Malfoy in class.

Speaking of Draco, Harry's interactions with the Malfoy heir had becoming rather entertaining, to say the least. Somehow, during their Potion classes, the two had developed a playful but subtle sort of banter system. They still seemed to the rest of the world to be insulting each other, and yet to the two of them, they were really just teasing each other.

Draco's teasing Harry had been a far more gradual process, and had slowly developed in response to Harry teasing him, and prodding him into being a little more relaxed around him. It had taken a while to set in, but Draco finally seemed able to be himself around Harry. In fact, he was more 'himself' around Harry than he ever had been before and Harry found he actually rather liked this side of Draco. Their interactions in actual Potions and in any sort of public setting, still appeared to be that of rivals – albeit, rivals who were no longer violently at each other's throats – however their interactions were quite different in the safety of the Dark Arts Association meetings.

In the four DAA meetings that had taken place so far, Harry had quickly managed to gain the respect of all in attendance. Many were still clearly bewildered how Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived, had turned into the person they were now exposed to on a bi-weekly basis, but they had come to accept that this person was obviously much more than any of them had ever suspected in the past.

Harry had done several mock duels with various members of the DAA to continue to prove himself to the group as well to demonstrate dueling techniques to those in attendance. He'd paired up with Draco once and spent the duel toying with Draco while skillfully and effortlessly avoiding everything Draco threw his way. He spent the duel taunting Draco, giving him pointers, and correcting Draco's form. Draco had snarked back at him, and Harry had merely chuckled in response. Oddly enough, instead of getting incredibly angry over this, Draco had started teasing Harry back. Things had merely grown from there.

Harry was quickly forming a comfortable relationship with several of the other DAA members. They were useful allies, but he also found himself far more comfortable socializing with them than he ever would have expected. They reminded him of the Death Eaters, but less serious, and of course, closer to his age. They were sort of his peers, although he was still far above any of them in skill and experience. Still, their presence was far easier to stand during his Hogwarts days than the Gryffindors, who often wore on his nerves.

Harry had been very successful at maintaining a very convincing facade around the Gryffindors, but oftentimes found their company mind numbing, and frequently wished for an escape from their ridiculous idiocy. Several times he'd considered sneaking down to the Slytherin common room to escape the noise that constantly filled the Gryffindor common room, but not _every_ Slytherin was in the DAA, so there would still be quite a group down there that would be shocked and bewildered by his appearance there. Not to mention, he wasn't under the security of the secrecy contract there.

So he just spent as much of his free time as possible in the library instead. He was even topping Hermione's old record for time spent in the library. Since he was there far more than was necessary for even his own class studying, it had become common for students from all the other houses to occasionally stop by his table and ask him questions. It was weird the first few times it happened. Harry wasn't even sure at what point he had become known as any sort of intellectual assistant. Hermione had told him that he was a very good teacher and made himself very approachable this year in the defense club, so people felt safe coming to him. It was unexpected, but he had to admit it could be useful. And so, he continued to make himself 'approachable' and put some effort into helping anyone who came to him.

During those weeks, he continued to reach out with his magic and check the ring on Dumbledore's hand at every meal and anytime he saw him anywhere else in the school. It had remained unchanged. It was still a horcrux, and still held a piece of Tom's soul. Dumbledore also _always_ wore it, which was mildly frustrating. Even though Harry was making progress with the parsel phase spell, he still wouldn't be able to sneak in and steal the ring if Dumbledore never took the bloody thing off.

Another thing that had started during these two weeks was Quidditch practice. Harry had, however, managed to convince Angelina that Harry did not need to be there for every practice. She was holding practice twice a week, and one of them was scheduled at the same time as one of the DAA meetings. Harry had explained that he was student assisting in Professor Rowle's Advanced Defense Club and couldn't make it to every practice.

Fortunately, Seekers were not exactly team players. He was familiar with most of their plays and as long as he still attended one practice a week, he could stay up to date on any new ones they were practicing. Angelina had been a bit hesitant at first, but when Harry had suggested that if it was a huge problem, Ginny could just take over as Seeker, Angelina had exclaimed that there was no need to be hasty and that she would hate to lose Harry as their seeker. So she had allowed him to miss on half of the practices, so long as when it was the week before an actual game, he would put practice first and be willing to miss a club meeting or two. Harry was willing to accept that.

For the two practices that he had attended, Harry had spent most of the time cringing at Ron. The boy seemed almost bi-polar in his ability to perform. Sometimes he was almost brilliant and made some truly great saves. Other times he was like a bumbling orangutan on a flying stick. Nerves seemed to play a big role in Ron's performance and Harry could tell that Angelina was worried and possibly even second guessing her decision to pick Ron over McLaggan. McLaggan was a prat, but at least he was prat with consistent performance.

–

It was now mid-October and the Abbey was finally ready. The western wing of the castle now held any and every item that had been in the castle that could suggest who the castle had belonged to, while any and all traces of 'Potter' had been removed from the eastern wing where the Death Eaters would have free reign. The only way to get into the west wing was from a single double-doorway on the first floor just off the main entry hall and the large double doors were warded with a parsel pass-phrase. The house-elves could still pop anywhere in the house, of course, so it didn't stop them.

There were anti apparition wards around the entire castle. Harry and Tom were keyed into them so they could go anywhere freely, but the Death Eaters would only be able to apparate into the large entry hall at the front entrance of the castle. The wards prevented anyone who did not have the Dark Mark from apparating into the wards without express permission given by Harry or Tom. A Death Eater could apparate a single unmarked person in with them, but that person would be locked in the entry hall by a second layer of wards until Tom or Harry could personally allow their presence in the rest of the castle.

The castle was in the shape of a large U with the front entrance hall in the bottom center. Upon entering, you could either go forward, which would lead to a wall of glass doors that lead back outside to the back patio and the courtyard, and the gardens beyond. To each side were two short hallways with wide double-doors. The halls and doors to the left would take you to the east wing that would be open to all of the Death Eaters. Going to the right would head into the west wing that was Harry and Tom's private half of the large abbey.

Each side of the castle had its own spiral staircase connecting all of the floors together. From the East wing, if you took the stairs down, it would take you into the dungeons. It had eight individual holding cells and a large open torture room. On the first floor of the east wing was the kitchen, elf quarters, laundry, a large sitting room, a conference room, and a large dining room that the Death Eaters who would take up residence in the abbey would eat in.

Up the stairs to the second floor and you'd come upon a small hallway that lead to the large Banquet Hall where the training sessions and the mass meetings would be held. The second floor was also home to the smaller library that they would leave open for the Death Eaters to use. Second floor featured another, smaller meeting room, three bedrooms, and two bathrooms.

Third floor of the east wing was solely occupied by bedrooms and bathrooms.

On to the western wing. Taking the spiral stairs down would lead into a narrow hall with a warded door that would take you to the potions lab. Two small rooms came off of the lab, one a potion ingredient storeroom, and the other was a small bathroom so that neither would have to go all the way upstairs in the middle of lengthy brewing session or complicated magical object creation.

The first floor of the west wing most prominently featured the main library. It was very large filled with wall-to-wall bookcases as well as two rows of bookcases through the center. It also had its own fireplace, several tables, a couch and a few chairs for reading. Towards the front of the west wing, there was a music room that had an old grand piano in it. Harry had never even had the opportunity to touch a piano before. Tom had said that at some point he might show Harry a little, but the piano had never been one of his strengths. Harry had asked Tom if he knew how to play any other instruments and Tom had replied simply with 'violin.' and then quickly changed the subject.

A few of the other rooms in the first floor had once been classrooms back when the Abbey was a nunnery, but now they were mostly just extra furniture storage. The new time-turner closet had been set up on the first floor across from the music room and beside a large bathroom.

Up the spiral stairs to the second floor would lead to a plus-shaped junction. Two unused bedrooms, a bathroom, and a large room that Tom and Harry had set aside specifically for magical artifact storage filled the rooms on each of the corners of the intersection. Down the hall to the right led to the large office Tom and Harry had set up with two large desks, one for each Harry and Tom, a number of small bookcases, and a large fireplace. Taking the hall to the left led to the large drawing room where the Potter Family Tapestry resided, along with most of Harry's family member's portraits.

The third floor had the master bedroom with a large walk-in closet, and a connected master bath. Down the hall in the opposite direction were another small office, the gym, and another unused, smaller bedroom.

The unimportant rooms in the west wing were the least 'finished', but it was a pretty large castle with three floors worth of rooms. That was quite a lot for two people alone to use up. The eastern wing's rooms were all at least 'finished', however most of the bedrooms were fairly barren. A bed, dresser, wardrobe, and in some of the rooms, a closet. They figured that whoever took up residence in each room could flesh them out further to suit their own needs and desires.

The elf quarters currently had enough room for eight elves to live comfortably, although an additional two beds could be added easily since they were rather small, but since they currently only had six elves, it wasn't yet necessary. The elves themselves all seemed quite happy with the outcome of the abbey. They were proud of how far it had come in the last month and a half and were eager for their master's followers to come to the abbey so that they would have more wizards to serve.

One of the more significant modifications that Tom had made to the castle, was actually one of the least obvious. Being an ancient castle, it had no central ventilation system. Even after it had been remodeled by the Potters, it had been heated and cooled through magical means so any such muggle heating system was unnecessary. Tom had magically added in a system of space-expanded tunnels that connected much of the castle's rooms, both east and western wings, so that Nagini, and Harry in his sea krait form, could travel easily where ever they desired without having to deal with the doors.

Late that night at 11:00pm, so only a half hour after Harry had arrived at the manor for the night, Tom summoned _all_ of the Death Eaters to the ballroom at Riddle Manor. This would be the meeting where the new castle would be announced. After this day, the manor would be locked down and even Harry and Tom would likely not return.

They gave the Death Eaters twenty minutes to gather after the initial summons since many would not have been prepared for this unexpected call. The group was standing in the crowded ballroom quietly talking amongst themselves, wondering what was going on.

Finally, Harry as Evan Harris and Voldemort entered the ballroom with their robes billowing behind them for dramatic effect. The pair came to stand at the head of the hall and looked out over the group of men and women in black robes and the occasional white mask.

"This gathering will be brief," Voldemort began looking out over the large group. Their recruiting efforts had never stopped and the ballroom was nearing maximum capacity. It was a good thing that the banquet hall in the abbey was larger. "I have gathered you all here tonight to inform you that we have completed work on a new headquarters. The next time you use your mark to apparate in for a meeting, it will take you to the new location rather than coming here.

"Our new headquarters is considerably larger than this manor and it has room to support those of our ranks that need a secure place to stay, away from the eyes and wands of the Ministry and its Aurors. The eastern wing of the castle will be freely open to any of you. It has several meeting rooms and a library that you will have access to for your missions. The castle has fourteen bedrooms in the eastern wing that I will make available to those who need them. The western wing is strictly off limits. If at any point you are in the castle and in need to contact either myself or Evan call upon one of the house elves."

Voldemort went on to explain a few more things before addressing a few specific groups that were supposed to be coming for meetings the following day, informing them exactly where to go upon arriving at the castle. He then called for Wormtail and for Barty to remain behind and dismissed the rest.

Once the room was cleared of everyone except for 'Evan', Voldemort, Barty, and Wormtail, Voldemort spoke again.

"Do either of you require a more secure place to live?" he asked.

Wormtail blinked owlishly and his mouth hung open for a moment while Barty's eyes simply widened in dawning understanding.

"My current living arrangements are a bit... unstable." Barty admitted.

Wormtail fidgeted and looked a bit uncomfortable.

"Well, Wormtail?" Voldemort drawled impatiently.

"I erm... my Lord... I have been erm... living mostly in my animagus form..."

Voldemort sneered and Harry rolled his eyes.

"I thought as much. Wormtail, you are a security risk and little more. You know far too much sensitive information to be roaming around free and practically defenseless where anyone with a rattrap or casting the _H__ominum __R__evilio_ spell could catch you. We also know that Dumbledore's Order has been informed of your animagus form and are actively looking for you. If you came upon any one of them you would likely end up captured and I don't trust your ability to keep sensitive information to yourself under pressure of certain potions or Dumbledore's mind magic."

Wormtail looked a bit incensed at the suggestion that he was 'defenseless', but his annoyance was quickly cowed into submissive terror when the Dark Lord glared at him.

"If you were to get caught or even _seen_ and recognized, it could cause a tremendous amount of trouble. As much as I disliked your company here in the manor, I see little alternative but to have you come live in the abbey. At least it's large enough that I will rarely have to deal with you personally. Barty, you are also welcome to come live there as well. We have a staff of house elves that will provide three meals a day as well as basic housekeeping."

"Thank you, my Lord. That is most gracious of you and I humbly accept. I am curious... the '_abbey'_, you called it?" Barty asked.

Voldemort grimaced slightly and Harry smirked before speaking. "The new headquarters' name is Morhda Abbey. It's a rather large castle. Belonged to my family, actually. We've been fixing it up since September."

"_Your_ family?" Barty asked back with raised eyebrows and a spark of amusement in his eyes. Harry smirked. Wormtail just looked confused. He was the only one in the group that didn't know that Evan Harris was actually Harry Potter.

"Now that that is settled, shall we be going? The two of you can follow and I shall have the elves direct you to your rooms. You can then leave and return to collect your own belongings." Voldemort said to Wormtail and Barty.

The two Death Eaters thanked him and bowed. Then they followed Harry and Voldemort as they left the ballroom and returned to the entrance hall. Voldemort ordered Wormtail to expose his left forearm and he pressed his wand to the cowering man's Dark Mark. Wormtail flinched and whimpered deep in his throat for a moment until the Dark Lord retracted his wand.

Harry noticed that during the interaction, Barty had flinched slightly and twitched his left hand. Tom had just reset _all_ of the Death Eaters marks to now apparate them to Morhda Abbey instead of Riddle Manor.

"Your marks will now take you to the abbey." Voldemort said simply before he turned to 'Evan', the pair nodded silently at each other, and then quickly disappeared with two soft cracks.

Barty and Wormtail each pressed their own wands to their marks and apparated. The two Death Eaters appeared in a large, spacious entry hall. Behind them were the main doors. To each side was a short bit of hallway before coming to a wall with wide double-doors, and directly in front of them was a wall of glass doors leading out to a stone patio, steps, and a courtyard only faintly illuminated by magical lights.

'Evan' and the Dark Lord were standing a few feet away from them, speaking quietly to each other. Voldemort nodded at Harry before turning back to the other two men. "Barty, Evan will show you around. _Grader!_" he called out.

A moment later a waist-tall, gangly-looking house elf appeared. "Yes, Master?"

"Lead Wormtail to the green room on the third floor." Voldemort ordered dismissively.

"Yes master!" the elf said excitedly before turning and looking expectantly at the short, fat, balding man. "Right this way, Mr. Wormy!"

Wormtail grimaced at the name and hesitated for only a moment before quickly hurrying after the excited elf.

They went through the double-doors on the left that lead to the east wing and Harry turned to Barty.

"Well, you've got your pick of the rooms. We just gave the smallest one to 'Wormy'." Harry said with a chuckle.

"I'll be in the office." Voldemort said as he turned towards the doors on the right.

"Alright, I'll be up in a bit." Harry called after him. Voldemort quietly hissed the password to open the doors to the western wing and disappeared inside. Harry turned back to Barty and grinned. "There're only two bedrooms on the second floor. They're both a decent size, but they share a bathroom. Third floor has most of the bedrooms, and a few of them are larger or have big closets, but none of them have private baths. One of them has its own fireplace, but it's not hooked up to the floo network."

Barty blinked at him before he shook his head and chuckled. "How about you just take me up there and I have a look at them?"

Harry grinned. "Sure."

They went to the left and headed through the same double-doors that Grader had led Wormtail through a few minutes earlier. As they walked, Harry pointed to various doors and explained what they were.

"Through that door is the sitting room. Good table for poker, some couches, a few bookcases, although there's not much in there right now. Through there is the kitchen." They turned to the right and kept going. "Through that door," Harry said, point to his right, "is the largest conference room we set up. Can hold ten people comfortably. There's another conference room on the second floor, and a smaller meeting hall as well."

After passing it, they came to a small hallway that turned right from the one they were in. They paused there for a moment. "If we kept going down this hall, at the end is the dining room. You can go there for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The elves will let you know when they'll be serving food. The elf quarters are also down here." He turned into the small hallway and at the end they entered the tower where the spiral stairs were located.

"If you went down, you'd get to the dungeons. We setup eight heavily warded cells, and one fair-sized _playroom_." Harry said, with a wicked grin that caused Barty to raise a single eyebrow before he grinned and chuckled. The two headed up the stairs and Harry continued the tour.

"Down at the end of this hall," Harry said, pointing to their left after they exited the stairs, "is the Banquet Hall where we'll be holding the training sessions. We've already got all of the training dummies set up in there. If you turn right from there and go to the end, you'll find the library. We have a bigger one in the western wing with a larger selection, but it's our private stash and we're not about to leave that open for just anyone to take from. Anyway, here're the two bedrooms..."

The tour continued on for a while longer as Harry continued onto the third floor, pointed out which door went to the 'green room' that they'd assigned Wormtail, and gave Barty the basic rundown of the eastern wing of the abbey.

Barty chuckled lightly to himself after Harry had finished describing finding a portrait of one of his ancestors in the room they were currently in, and some interesting details the woman had told him about when she had personally decorated the room about a century earlier.

"What's funny?" Harry asked, turning back to Barty.

"I was just thinking about how absurd it is that a bunch of Death Eaters are going to be rooming in an ancient _Potter_ castle." Barty said, smirking.

Harry laughed. "It's really not that absurd. People seem to have this idea in their heads that the Potters are some old Light family, but they're not."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. Apparently the strong alignment with the Light is fairly recent. My dad and granddad were both staunch Light wizards, but before them, most Potters were neutral, or even Dark."

"For real?" Barty exclaimed, clearly surprised.

"Yeah. My Great-grandfather, Harrison Potter – the one I was named after, I might add," Harry snickered, "was a _Slytherin!_ His brother was a Ravenclaw."

"No way!" Barty laughed.

"Yeah. My granddad, Charlus Potter, grew up here, but left as soon as he graduated Hogwarts and apparently hardly ever came back, even to visit his parents. He was a very opinionated _Light_ wizard. Hated anything to do with the Dark and raised his son the same way. It's no wonder my father was so easily manipulated by Dumbledore and was so eager to join up with the Order."

"Your father was manipulated by Dumbledore?" Barty asked and then chuckled to himself. "Not that I'm surprised really. I don't think that anyone who works closely for the old coot _doesn't_ get manipulated, I just wasn't aware there was a specific story."

Harry snorted. "Oh yes. Interesting tidbit of information. My grandfather, Charlus Potter, retained full control over the Potter Family Vaults up until his death, which was only two years before my parents died. He may have been a Light wizard, and he supported Dumbledore's politics, but he did not support being fiscally _irresponsible _with the family fortune. He wouldn't let my dad _touch_ the family money or properties, and left stipulations in his will with the goblins not to let my father spend more than 2% of the total in the vault each year except for a few very specific emergency situations.

"When I first saw the paperwork behind all this, I wondered why he would do that, but the goblins couldn't give me any explanations. I asked the portrait of Charlus Potter about it and it turns out that my father had his own personal account since a very young age with a very, _very_ sizable sum of money in it. He gave away nearly _all_ of it to Dumbledore to help 'fund the war'." Harry scoffed.

"Dumbledore managed to convince my dad to 'donate' hundreds of thousands of galleons, so he was practically broke when we had to go into hiding. The house in Godric's Hollow where I was born and grew up? It's _tiny_. Out of all the properties that I inherited, it's the absolute smallest with less than 2,000 square feet, total. And even it was paid for as a gift from my grandmum to my parents when they got married.

"But that's just the money side of things." Harry continued. "There's also the fact that Dumbledore tricked my parents with this huge false prophecy he concocted. Lied to them, point blank, about me and what his Seer supposedly saw about me and my involvement with the Dark Lord. The whole thing was really just to lure the Dark Lord into a trap. He used me as bait, tricked my parents into a false sense of security by performing their Fidelius charm, but talking them into using Wormtail as the secret keeper, even though he probably knew that Pettigrew had taken the Dark Mark. He wanted us to be sitting ducks for when the Dark Lord showed up to off me. He threw us away." Harry huffed and shook his head. "The man is a dirty bastard, and my father was a fool to follow him."

"Well, you certainly have your fair share of reasons to hate the man." Barty remarked.

Harry snorted. "You have no idea."

– –

Harry climbed between the black satin sheets and the heavy comforter and sighed happily and he cocooned himself in the warm blankets. He heard Tom's deep chuckle from across the room as the elder wizard came out from the bathroom draped in nothing but a lightweight black silk over-robe.

"Don't you look comfortable." Tom remarked. Harry just grinned at him, causing Tom to shake his head and chuckle. "You're in an awfully good mood. Any particular reason?" Tom asked as he began to near the bed.

"I think I'm just glad that we're officially done with the move." Harry said with a one-shoulder shrug as he rolled onto his back and stretched his arms up over his head. "It's sort of weird, because, I mean – we've been sleeping here in this room for a while now, but tonight it feels like it's finally official. That this is now one-hundred-percent _our _home."

Tom smiled and nodded his head softly in understanding. "So does that mean that the manor wasn't 'ours'?"

Harry's mouth twisted a bit. "Well... maybe. I mean, it felt really good there this summer. I felt more at home there than I had ever felt anywhere else, but it wasn't _ours_, per se. It was still _yours_. I feel like we made this castle inhabitable _together_. It's filled with both of our things and we worked together to make this a home for us. Plus, I know that part of you disliked the manor because it belonged to your muggle father."

Tom grimaced for a moment before looking back at Harry and grinning. "You're right. And I am glad to put that place behind me, completely."

Harry smiled and then pushed himself up onto his elbows while he patted the spot beside him. "Are you going to just stand there and keep me waiting, or are you going to get over here and fuck me?"

Tom scoffed, but couldn't entirely subdue the grin threatening to curl up his lips. "Impertinent brat."

"Of course." Harry replied, smirking, playfully.

Tom reached up, undid the clasp and pushed the loose over-robe he was wearing off his shoulders, allowing it to pool onto the floor at his feet. Harry's eyes widened minutely before his lids drooped heavily with desire. Tom smirked back triumphantly at the lust he felt coming off the younger wizard in waves in response to his nude form on full display for Harry's hungry eyes.

"Dear Circe, Tom... you are so bloody beautiful." Harry whispered with an air of awe to his husky voice.

"Beautiful, am I? No, love, _you_ are the one that's beautiful. My own personal Adonis. Youth, perfected in form. Flesh sculpted by a master craftsman." Tom said as he walked over to the bed and pulled the comforter back, exposing a nude Harry beneath it. Harry gasped slightly at the sudden exposure to the cooler air of the room.

"An Adonis, am I?" Harry replied in a slightly teasing voice, once he'd recovered from the shock. "I thought my _youth_ made you uncomfortable?"

"It was never truly your age that worried me. I suppose if I am being honest, my largest concern was that others would think I was some sort of pedophile. But I know I'm not. It has never been your youth that I am attracted to. It's _you_. To hell with the rest of the world. I am a Dark Lord and I do not give a damn what anyone else _thinks_. Didn't you ask me once why I would allow the opinion of other's matter to me in this, when I had never bothered to give a damn about them in any other regard?"

Harry chuckled weakly and fell back completely against his pillow as Tom straddled his waist and leaned over, placing each of his hands on either side of Harry's head. Their naked groins rubbed against each other and Harry moaned quietly as a shock of pleasure washed over him.

"I think I may have said something like that a time or two." Harry said with a breathy voice as Tom's head lowered and his lips pressed gently against Harry's.

Tom pulled back a few inches and the two locked eyes. "I love you so damn much, Harry, it's absurd. The tremendous extent to which things have changed, is astounding. A year ago, I hardly even had a body, if you can even call that homunculus a body at all. My entire existence was about hate. Hate and vengeance overwhelmed even my desire to return to my _Task_. I held a depth of loathing for you greater than the deepest chasms of the oceans. I blamed you and Dumbledore for all my woes and my decade of suffering as a spirit, and yet now I can't imagine living a day without you by my side. You've given me the ability to step away from pure hate and feel love for the first time in my wretched, selfish, egocentric life. You _saved_ me, Harry. You did not just give me a body back, you gave me a life I never thought I would have."

Harry stared up at Tom, dumbstruck by the sudden, unexpected confession. "Tom..." Harry whispered, unsure what to even say.

"Shh... Harry..." Tom paused for a moment before looking back with determination. "I wish to announce you to the Death Eaters as my Consort."

Harry's jaw dropped. "You... wha... I... Consort? What exactly does that mean? A consort is like a... a spouse, right? Tom are... are you asking me to _marry_ you?"

Tom's head fell down slightly as he grinned and chuckled lightly. "I suppose so." He looked back up and his face was light and soft. His ruby eyes seemed to be warring between that legitimately happy shine that was only ever for Harry, and hesitant worry. Tom pushed himself up onto his knees, still straddling Harry's waist and Harry pushed himself up onto his elbows.

Harry's eyes went down and he couldn't help but chuckle at the fact that they were still naked, and both of them were still at least partially aroused. The position they were in was probably not one often used for marriage proposals. But then again, what the hell did Harry know about such things? "Aren't you supposed to be down on one knee or something?" Harry asked, joking to cover his sudden nerves.

Tom rolled his eyes and gave Harry a crooked grin. "You should know by now I am far from traditional. Although I suppose I was not currently expecting anything so formal as a ceremony or vows. Unless you specifically want that, of course. I thought that perhaps we might engage in something of the sort later on. Maybe after you've finished Hogwarts. Or perhaps when you actually become of age which I estimate will likely be this coming summer, given your continued time-turner use."

Harry blinked at Tom, still somewhat dumbstruck by all of this just appearing, seemingly out of nowhere. "So what brought this on? And... I hate to admit this, but I really don't know anything about what the term 'Consort' specifically means. What exactly...?" Harry's voice trailed off unsure.

"It would be a declaration to my followers that you are my equal and are to be treated with respect and absolute deference. That you have the same level of authority over them that I do. I know that at least a few of the Death Eaters – especially a few of those that we will be recovering from Azkaban – will likely have trouble accepting any authority an 'apprentice' could possibly hold over them. However my _Consort_ is another matter."

"But what about the Death Eaters who know that Harry Potter and Evan Harris are one and the same? They'll realize that you and I are... you know. _Involved_. Are you sure you're okay with that?"

Tom snorted mildly and rolled his eyes. "Only Barty and Thorfinn know, and I believe they are both trustworthy enough to know the truth. I know you're quite fond of both of them. Even the others who are aware of 'Harry Potter' having joined my side, are unaware of your connection to 'Evan Harris'."

Harry nodded slowly. "So... a _consort_?"

"Consort is the term usually used for the spouse of a monarch or a deity."

Harry laughed. "Your ego..." he trailed off, teasingly, earning him a playful bop on the head.

"Brat."

"A brat that you apparently want to _marry_." Harry teased before looking thoughtful. "This is really for real?" he asked suddenly.

Tom's face softened and he looked more vulnerable than Harry had ever seen him before. "If you are uncomfortable with the idea, Harry, you can say no."

Harry and Tom locked eyes and stared into each other's depths for a long moment. One of Harry's hands came up slowly and his fingers threaded into Tom's soft black hair, pulling him down and gently pressing their lips together.

"You're absurd, Tom. Of course it's a yes," Harry whispered a moment later as their lips parted only enough for Harry to speak. "I love you. I am yours now, and forever. You're a part of me. Quite literally." Harry chuckled. "You've nestled your way deep inside me, and I'll never let you go. If you're honestly willing to let the Death Eaters know what we mean to each other... how could I say no to that?"

Tom got a triumphant gleam in his eyes, but it was overpowered by the sense of pure elation and happiness Harry could sense over their bond.

"Together, you and I will be unstoppable." Tom said and he came down and claimed Harry's lips with a fierce intensity. Harry moaned into Tom's mouth and his hands came up, wrapping around Tom's back and neck.

Tom ground his hips against Harry's for a moment, eliciting another pleasured moan, and Harry found himself instinctively arching his back and trying to bring himself closer to the glorious friction.

Tom pulled away again, a bit breathless and looking down at the younger wizard with a fiercely elated gleam in his eyes and an excited smile on his face. He looked so youthful in that moment that Harry was actually startled out of his deep lustful haze.

"We're going to do it, Harry. I just know that with you by my side, I'll succeed. We'll dismantle the pathetic excuse for a government those of magic have to rely upon right now and rebuild something great! We'll restore the greatness our kind once had, but make it even better. A world worthy of the wonders and power of magic. And we'll protect our kind from whatever insanity the muggles will bring down upon us."

Harry stared up at Tom, a bit awestruck by the fierce determination in Tom's voice and the utter confidence the man seemed to possess in that moment. Slowly Harry's expression softened into a smile and he nodded his head. "We will."

Tom's eyes locked with Harry's again and his expression took on a wicked gleam. "I am going to utterly ravage you, Harry."

Harry's eyes widened a bit. "Is that a promise or a threat?"

_*Lemon Warning*_

Tom laughed loudly before crashing down and attacking Harry's lips with his own. The response was more than enthusiastic and moments later the two where moaning and writhing against each other, desperately racing towards their mutual goal.

The jar of lube was wandlessly summoned and Harry was prepared while Tom made love to his cock with his mouth. Finally, there was penetration. Harry was folded nearly in half with his feet up over Tom's shoulders while the elder set a heavy pace.

"Oh Merlin! There! Right there! Oh! Oh fuck!" Harry screamed as Tom thrust deeply into him, panting and hissing incoherently in pleasure.

_§Ssso tight... sssooo fucking beautiful. My Harry... Mine forever...§,_ Tom hissed between heavy pants and thrust. "Say your mine, Harry." Tom said suddenly, speaking in English again.

"I'm yours!" Harry screamed out, instantly. "Oh fuck, Tom. Just... don't stop... don't... oh Merlin... there! Right... _fuck_... there!"

"_Ahh!" _ Tom called out as Harry's muscles clenched tightly around him and the powerful wave of pure pleasure from Harry's completion washed across the link, instantly triggering his own powerful ejaculation.

The two shook and shuddered in each other's tight embrace for a moment before the shock waves died away and Tom collapsed onto Harry's chest. His softening cock slipped out of Harry and the younger wizard slipped his legs free and laid flat on his back, softly panting while Tom rested his entire body on top of him.

_*/Lemon*_

Tom hummed in happiness and Harry felt the utter contentment the man was feeling and basked gloriously in the feeling. That he had filled Tom with that feeling was one of his most gratifying achievements.

"So if we were to get married, would I take your last name?" Harry asked, jokingly.

Tom chuckled and shifted his body so that he was now lying directly beside Harry so that he wouldn't crush him. "Harry Riddle? Merlin, the thought hadn't even crossed my mind."

Harry snickered and turned onto his side and stretched his arm across Tom's torso. "There's some magic ritual that some of the older family do where the woman's name is changed, magically, right? And all documents referring to her legal name are automatically updated? Can you imagine the reaction that would happen if we did that? If, suddenly, my name in all the school documents changed to Harry Riddle?"

Tom snorted. "Dumbledore might die right then and there of a heart attack."

Harry laughed. "Yeah... although he's probably the only one who would understand the significance, since no one else really knows your real name."

"It's quite likely that McGonagall knows my real name. She and I attended Hogwarts at the same time, after all. She was two years ahead of me, though." The two were quiet for a calm minute before Tom spoke again. "All joking aside... would you actually want to take my name?"

Harry hummed in thought. "You know... I think so. At least, I would at some point. I know right now it would complicate our plans too much."

Tom nodded. "It would."

"So when were you thinking of announcing me to the minions as your consort?"

Tom snorted at the term 'minions'. "I'm not sure yet. I'll have to think of the best time. Whether I should wait until after we have recovered those from Azkaban or if I should announce your position to the others before hand... I'll think about it."

Harry nodded his head and then yawned.

"It's late. Let's go to sleep." Tom said and Harry nodded his head and hummed in agreement. A flick of Tom's wrist and a bit of wandless magic was all that was needed to turn the light off from the bathroom, cutting off the only light that had been illuminating the dim room, and washing the pair in darkness.

"G'night, Tom." Harry mumbled as he buried his face into Tom's chest.

"Good night, love." Tom replied, placing a kiss on Harry's forehead.

– –

AN: So like I said at the start of the chapter – Tom's 'proposal' was totally unplanned in my outline. I was writing the scene and out of nowhere, Tom suddenly insisted that he wanted to propose. I actually set the story aside for a day while I debated deleting the last few pages and sticking to my plan, or reworking my plan to incorporate this unexpected development. In the end, I decided to keep it. So, there you have it. Hah.

So this is chapter 19. Chapter 20 is off to my beta already. Chapter 21 will be heading off to her shortly as well. It may be a bit of a pause (like 3 or 4 days more) before Chapter 22 is ready. I've decided I need to rewrite a chunk of it because I'm just not happy with it. But after that, will be another big break while I write more of the story.


	21. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary: Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta Pass by tannne

AN:

– –

Chapter 20

It was now the morning of the second Friday in October, October the 12th. There was a Defense and Dueling Association meeting that evening after dinner and Harry was mildly looking forward to it. Harry had History that morning, then Potions, and then Transfiguration after lunch. After that, he had a free period that he would actually be spending with Thor, assisting in one of his Defense classes. It was something he had started a few weeks earlier since he had a free block that none of his friends had.

Harry had no class at the end of Friday, but Hermione had Arithmancy, and Ron had Divination. Ginny and Luna both had classes as well. So, Harry visited Thor and sat in on his fourth year Defense class. It was a mix of Slytherins and Ravenclaws, and it was actually a fun class to observe and help with. Thor had already taken to covering a few mild Dark spells with the group. They were all defensive spells, rather than offensive spells, but they were still _Dark _and most definitely not in the textbook_. _Thor had supplied them all with supplemental reading packets he had prepared himself, and had the ward stones in place, in the defense classroom as an extra precaution.

It was obvious to Harry and Thor that some of the students realized exactly what sort of spells they were practicing, but the ones who _noticed_ were also the ones who appreciated it the most and weren't about to go telling anyone. The rest of the students were blissfully ignorant of the Darker nature of the spells they had practiced, as none of them seemed any more violent or dangerous than any of the other classes they practiced in any of their classes.

–

The plan for that evening's Dueling and Defense Association meeting involved Thor introducing the first truly Dark, offensive spell for the group to practice. It was going to be a delicate experiment. First and foremost, to see if anyone would call them on the affinity of the spell, but also to see who in the class was actually able to cast it.

Harry's mind was so focused on what was going to be happening at the _end_ of the day, that he was, admittedly, a bit distracted as he entered the Great Hall for breakfast that morning. He sat down at the Gryffindor table beside Hermione and across from Ron and began to pile food onto his plate with a sleepy, unfocused expression on his face. He was brought out of his morning haze by the sound of Hermione gasping beside him.

Harry turned his head and blinked owlishly at the girl who had her face utterly buried in the Daily Prophet.

"What's up?" Harry asked.

"Harry! Look at this!" Hermione exclaimed as she moved a few dishes out of the way and smoothed the paper out between them. It was open to page two and a large headline at the top center read '_New Study Proposes Radical ideas on the Origin of Magic in Muggleborns!'_

Harry had to fight to school his expression and keep the smirk off his lips. He'd wondered when this would finally make the Prophet.

_A new study that has been published simultaneously in the '__Journal of Magical Genealogical Study', and 'Trends in Magical Genealogy' entitled 'The Annihilation of the Muggleborn Myth'. The study, led by __Professor Phoebus Penrose of the __Royal Academy for the Advancement of Magics, claims that the idea of any magical person descending entirely from non-magical muggles is impossible. The study states that every muggleborn witch or wizard who participated in the study was, in reality, the descendant of a squib cast out from a magical family. The study states that all people with magic have to have a magical person somewhere in their family tree. That it is, in fact, impossible for a person with only muggle ancestors to __develop spontaneously__ the ability to use magic._

The article went on from there, describing a few more of the claims the study made, and then going into the reactions of a few noteworthy individuals who were interviewed for their opinion. Among those to give their reactions, were quite a few politically powerful purebloods who one would instantly expect to denounce such claims. However, none of them did. They all sang the praises of the study and said that this information needed to be more closely examined and that there were deep repercussions to come if such findings were to be true.

Hermione seemed exceptionally shocked when Lucius Malfoy was quoted as showing his support of further investigation into the study's findings. Ron's face seemed to turn red and pucker up with indignation at that. It seemed his instinct was to instantly distrust anything that a Malfoy put their support behind, but Ron shocked Harry with a display of marginal intelligence, when the ginger refrained from speaking against the article as it became blatantly obvious that Hermione was so excited by it.

One of the people quoted in the article said that the old families should each make an effort to track down any squibs that might have come from their lines and see if they had any descendents who were actively magical. That any so-called 'muggleborns' who were determined to be members of old wizarding families should be welcomed back and taught the traditions of their families. Anything to promote the muggleborns being fully included into magical society so that they don't feel the need to escape back into the muggle world and produce magically weaker offspring by marrying muggles.

Another section then went on to quote some of Professor Pheobus Penrose's paper about how too much muggle blood introduction into the family tree eventually results in weakened witches and wizards. If a squib manages to produce a magical heir, that heir should be instantly welcomed back to prevent any further contamination by muggle blood.

This part was even _more_ heavily agreed with by Malfoy and several other old pureblood wizards, and at _this_ part, Ron's self-control finally slipped and he made a few snide remarks. Hermione had given him a sharp glare at that and he had instantly shut up.

Ginny had come over to see what the big deal was and had ended up reading over their shoulders. After a bit of discussion, Ginny's attention seemed drawn away from the main article and she frowned as she read one of the smaller articles in the lower left-hand corner of the page.

_'Ministry Hit-Wizard Found Dead in his Home at age 58'_

_Alastor Gumboil, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's Hit-Wizard division, was found dead in his home yesterday by one of his friends and co-workers who came to check on him when he was absent from work for two days in a row._

_Mr. Gumboil was taken to St. Mungo's for a full investigation into what caused his unexpected death. In what turns out to be quite the scandal, it appears that Mr. Gumboil was partaking in illegal potions of the mind-altering sort, and managed to take one potion too many, bringing about his untimely demise. _

_Mr. Gumboil has been succeeded by Albert Runcorn who will now assume the position of Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Hit-Wizard Division._

Harry noticed where Ginny's gaze had shifted to and quickly skimmed over the article as well. Once again, he had to fight off the smirk that threatened to spread across his face. _He would have to congratulate Runcorn on his promotion at the next meeting he had with him at the Abbey_, he thought with a mental snicker.

"Hey, Ron?" Ginny said, looking up from the paper.

"Yeah?" Ron replied around a mouth full of food. Ginny grimaced at her brother, but continued.

"Wasn't dad friends with Alastor Gumboil?"

Ron frowned and his face pinched a bit as if he were trying really hard to remember something. Finally, he just shrugged and made a non-committal noise around another mouth-full of food.

"I 'unno?" he managed to mumble out.

Ginny huffed and rolled her eyes.

"Alastor Gumboil?" Hermione asked, looking at Ginny with mild confusion.

Ginny pointed to the article and Hermione quickly read it.

Discussion of the articles eventually had to be cut short when breakfast ended and they all had to head off to their classes.

– –

That evening Harry cut out of dinner early and headed up, into the large classroom that was used for the two 'defense' clubs. Thor was already there, getting the ward stones ready, and Harry quickly set to assisting him.

Just before 7 o'clock, the students began to arrive from dinner and gathered in the room. Among them were Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville. Most of the students who were prefects also attended the meeting – although the Slytherin and two of the Ravenclaw prefects were actually in the DAA instead of the DDA – and Harry had become rather friendly with all of the other prefects thanks to the prefect meetings he attended every week.

Harry went over and chatted lightly with Hermione and the others while they waited for everyone to arrive, and several other students came up to Harry and asked him various questions. Some were about the previous DDA lesson, while others were simply questions about general class work. Spells they had trouble getting to work for them, or magical theories that they couldn't quite grasp.

"You know Harry – I know that at one point you were thinking of being an Auror, but I have to say, I think you'd make a wonderful teacher," Hermione observed after a Hufflepuff fifth year left to rejoin her friend on the other side of the room.

Harry turned and blinked at Hermione before ducking his head a bit and shrugging. "I might not mind that... eventually." Harry murmured after a moment. That was when Thor blew a sharp whistle with his fingers in his mouth to draw everyone's attention to the head of the class and quiet them all down.

"Gotta go," Harry said quickly to his friends before he trotted up to the front of the class.

Thor quickly got the meeting underway by reviewing some of the dueling spells they had discussed in the last meeting and asking a few random people in the room to state their observations on the benefits and deficiencies of several different dueling styles they had discussed and Thor had instructed them all to read up on.

"There are three new offensive spells that I am going to teach you all today in this lesson," Thor said in his booming voice. "You may not all be able to cast all three of them. Some of you may only manage one of them, and that's alright. Not everyone has the aptitude to perform every spell ever created. They are all of about the same level and difficulty to perform, they're just different sorts of spells."

Thor began to pace slowly across the front of the room like he always did when he got deep into lecture mode and Harry just stood off to the side and watched with a small smile on his face. He really admired the man, if he was being honest with himself. Thor was a good dueler – although Harry knew he could best him if he had to – but mostly Thor was a good teacher. He had slipped into the role of teaching large groups fairly easily – especially considering that, all of his teaching experience prior to this had been with far smaller groups. Usually one-on-one.

Thor went on to describe the three spells. One was an offensive Light spell. It made the opponent lightheaded and giddy and caused them to feel like all of their woes were gone. They would lose all desire to fight because, as far as they were concerned, everything was right with the world and there was no need for violence. It was actually a fairly tricky spell to pull off. Its downside was that it only lasted for about half a minute at the most – during that time, you would be best served to restrain them through some other means, like a body bind jinx, or a petrifying curse. It was the perfect example of an offensive light spell since, if successful, it would usually end a conflict without any violence. The opponent would just give up. In fact, most offensive Light spells were forms of mind manipulation. It was no wonder the Light Lord was so accomplished at messing with people's minds.

The second spell was an offensive Neutral spell. It was a spell that, if you hit your mark, would cause your opponent to be spun around quite quickly several turns, causing dizziness, and binding their legs in an invisible sort of magical rope, and then cause them to fall over.

The third spell was an offensive Dark spell. Harry and Thor had decided to do this first foray into exposure to Dark Magic this way so that no one could come straight out and accuse them of introducing _just_ Dark magic. They could claim an unbiased stance since they were introducing a spell from each affinity. The added advantage was that they could see which students in the group got the Light spell to work the fastest and easiest, and know that it was _those_ students that, they would need to be most cautious about.

The Dark spell being taught that day was sort of a counterpoint to the Light spell. It would cause utter despair in your opponent. Hopelessness would fill your opponent for about half a minute if you were able to put enough power into the spell. It would cause your opponent to no longer see any value in fighting you because they would know and fully accept that they were going to lose no matter what they did, and they would simply give up.

It was surprisingly uncommon for a Dark spell to work this way. It took Thor a bit to track down a spell of appropriate difficulty that, would be a non-violent counterpart to the Light spell they had chosen to use. Most offensive Dark spells resorted to some sort of physical damage because it was far more permanent and reliable. A person skilled at all in Occlumency could prevent either of these two Light and Dark spells from working. Of course, Occlumency was a far rarer skill among Light wizards. Dark wizarding family, in contrast, often began teaching the skill to their children as soon as they reached age 13. Some would accuse them of being paranoid and not trusting people. Dark wizards, however, would insist they were simply being cautious and intelligent.

Thor went through the proper incantations and wand movements with the group and had them all practice it in front of him while in a row so that he could make sure they were performing the movements correctly before he let them lose to work with their partners practicing performing the spells.

Harry and Thor both kept their eyes open and keenly observed the group as they began to try casting the three spells.

From Harry's viewpoint, he could see all of the Gryffindors very clearly, as well as Luna, who was practicing with Ginny. On her first try, Luna had Ginny giggling dreamily before the ginger girl sat down onto the floor, laid back and looked up at the ceiling sighing happily and letting her wand roll away.

Okay, so Luna was clearly capable of Light magic with very little effort.

Hermione seemed to be trying the Light spell first as well, but she had an utterly frustrated scowl on her face as she continued to perform the wand movements and the incantation correctly, but just couldn't get the spell to cast. Ron was her partner and he was trying it as well as getting no response. Hermione continued to try with no success, but as Ron continued his efforts, Hermione's eyes suddenly glazed over a bit and a serene smile spread across her lips. Ron looked stunned when he realized that he had actually cast the spell successfully before _Hermione_ had.

During all of this, Luna had canceled her successful spell on Ginny and allowed her to continue practicing the spell. It was difficult to tell exactly when Ginny's spell had actually worked on Luna since her normal expression was remarkably similar to the one induced by the spell, but according to Luna, Ginny _had_ gotten the spell to work. The pair of them then went onto the Neutral spell, and both were both able to spin the other once or twice within three times of trying the spell, although neither had induced the tornado-like spin, or the bound legs yet.

Harry observed Neville's progress and saw the boy glowing with pride as he managed the Neutral spell perfectly on his third try, against Su Li – a Ravenclaw in their year. Neville smiled widely over at Harry who gave him an encouraging nod of his head.

Ron tried and marginally succeeded in making Hermione a bit hazy and giddy a couple times more before the two of them both switched to the neutral spell. Hermione managed it successfully on her forth try and some of her confidence seemed restored. Ron managed to make Hermione spin a few times, and managed to induce some dizziness, but never fully managed the binding aspect of the spell.

Harry paid particular attention when he saw that Ginny and Luna were moving on to the Dark spell. Again, Luna managed it fairly quickly. Not as quick as the Light spell, but she undoubtedly succeeded in casting it. _Interesting..._ Ginny looked terribly depressed, dropped her wand, and tears began to stream down her cheeks. Luna canceled the spell and waited a moment while Ginny recovered herself.

He continued to watch the pair as Ginny attempted casting the spell on Luna. He was rather surprised when she seemed to have success on her third attempt. It wasn't quite as dramatic as Luna's success, but she had clearly managed the spell to some extent.

Harry kept his eyes open and observed everyone else as well. Since success meant having a terribly depressed partner, it wasn't difficult to pick out which students were succeeding with the Dark spell. Harry made a mental note of each and every one who had completely managed it, as well as who had gotten partial results. He also observed the reactions of those casting the Dark spell with success.

He could see a gleam in the eyes of those who had successfully cast the spell on their first try, and he wondered how many of them were casting a Dark spell for the first time. For those with the natural disposition for Dark magic, casting it for the first time could fill them with a powerful rush. A feeling of awe, excitement, or rightness. It varied from person to person.

In contrast, Harry noticed that quite a few of the people who had easily succeeded with the Light spell, seemed visibly ill or at least uncomfortable with casting the Dark spell. It went against their affinity, and would never quite feel _right_ for them.

Neville and Su Li both seemed to be struggling with the Dark Spell. Both had managed to make the other look a bit forlorn, but neither had achieved the full power of the spell.

Harry's attention was drawn back to Ron and Hermione when he noticed that the pair were about to try the Dark spell. Hermione leveled her wand at Ron, said the incantation, perfectly performed the wand movement, and sent the spell flying. Ron's face instantly crumpled into a mask of utter despair. His knees buckled and he sunk to the floor, moaning about how hopeless everything was, and beginning to number off all of the stresses currently hanging over his head. He seemed especially convinced that he was going to perform horribly in the next Quidditch match.

Hermione looked stunned. But more than that, Harry noticed that her eyes were alight with wonder. And yet her eyes looked a bit heavy lidded and Harry could see her hand tremble slightly as it clasped her wand. Casting the spell had clearly affected her deeply.

Her shock over the way casting the spell had felt, seemed to leave her suddenly as her attention was drawn to Ron, still whimpering on the floor. She gasped in shock at his obviously distraught state and quickly moved her wand to _finite_ the spell.

Harry watched all this with considerable intrigue and a highly peaked interest.

Hermione was clearly inclined towards a Dark affinity. _Interesting_...

– –

After returning to the abbey, going back 24-hours with the time turner and then spending a comfortable, well-rested night with Tom, Harry and the Dark Lord found themselves in the large conference room on the first floor with a group of Death Eaters who all worked in the Ministry.

"First off, congratulations are in order to you Runcorn," Voldemort said with a wicked smirk. "I am quite pleased with your success in procuring the head of the Hit-Wizard division."

"Thank you, my Lord," Runcorn said, bowing his head low. As he rose back to his full height, sitting in his chair, he looked quite pleased with himself.

"Do you have anything to report on the process?"

"Everything went smoothly, my Lord. No one suspects foul play at all. His death is already being shoved under the rug."

Voldemort nodded his head and gave Runcorn an approving smirk. "Lucius, what do you have to report?" Voldemort said as he leaned back slightly in his regal high-backed chair that sat directly besides Harry's, at the head of the long conference table. Tom's chair was slightly larger, and a bit more ornate, but only marginally so, and Harry's chair was still clearly nicer than the ones the Death Eaters themselves sat in. It gave a subtle, yet clear message to any sitting in the room.

"My Lord," Lucius began with a slight bow of his head, "I have learned that Fudge has managed to successfully pass a new decree regarding Hogwarts that can likely work in our favor."

"Go on," Voldemort said with a slight wave of his hand.

"Fudge has initiated an inquisition in to the quality of education our children are receiving at Hogwarts. He has assigned one of his advisors the position of 'High Inquisitor of Education', and she will be visiting the school and observing all of the current staff and classes for deficiencies. It seems that the intention is that by the end of it, she will be sacking a fair number of the current faculty members."

The corner of Harry's mouth twitched into a smirk. "If we manage to take proper advantage of this situation, we might even manage to get more of our people inside the school as staff members." Harry remarked and Voldemort nodded.

"We shall investigate which of our numbers would be most qualified to fill any of the posts and which will not draw Dumbledore's attention upon themselves." Voldemort said.

"There's no doubt in my mind that Binns will get the boot," Harry said, looking thoughtful. "Having one our people in the position of History teacher could be extremely beneficial. I've also heard that the witch they've got teaching muggle studies is a bit daft. Loves muggles to death, but knows next to nothing about them. Some pureblood muggle lover who is blinded by her fascination by them. If we can get this 'High Inquisitor' to give her the boot, putting one of our people in that spot could be a real boon."

Voldemort nodded and looked pleased. "Lucius, who is it that Fudge has assigned the task? What do you know of her?"

"Her name is Dolores Umbridge and she is one of the under secretaries to Cornelius. The woman is a rather vile toad of a witch, but her views are not terribly far off from our own and she is easily manipulated. She is incredibly faithful to the Minister, and seems to be of the mind that Albus Dumbledore is a menace to society and should be removed from the school. I imagine she will be useful."

"Good. Keep me informed of any advances in the situation."

"Yes, My Lord," Lucius said with another low bow of his head.

"Macnair, report." Voldemort said addressing Walden Macnair, who was sitting directly to Lucius' left.

"Yes, sir," Macnair said, with a quick curt bow of his head. "Cuthbert Mockridge of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures is working on a new bill that he and several others are planning to support and promote during the next legislative session of the Wizengamot. The bill would further cripple the rights of Dark creatures and make it a criminal act for a witch or wizard to knowingly bare children with a Dark creature, while promoting any relations with a number of listed Light races."

Voldemort's eyes flashed red and his teeth clenched as an angry hissing sound escaped from between his teeth. Several of the Death Eaters in the room visibly paled or flinched in response. "Kill him and destroy all his work on the bill." Voldemort ordered immediately. "If you cannot achieve it without being caught, work with any of the other Death Eaters necessary to complete the task. Try to do it without drawing unwanted attention, however, the first priority is to stop the man and his work before the next session. It's only two weeks away, so you haven't much time."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Do not disappoint me, Macnair," Voldemort said in a quiet, high-pitched, warning tone.

Macnair paled and nodded his head quickly.

"Jeno, report!" Voldemort said sharply to the next Death Eater in line.

"My Lord, I have good news," Jeno Vass said with a hesitant, but excited voice. Jeno Vass was one of the younger Death Eaters. He was an Auror and worked for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. However, Jeno was in his first year and his family didn't have any political sway or powerful contacts, so Jeno had to work through his first year in the Aurors as a guard at Azkaban. Even though Jeno was normally in the Intermediate training group, he had been included in the planning for the Azkaban attack along with the Advanced group.

"Yes, Jeno?"

"Yesterday Samuel McKinnon, Amelia Bone's second-in-command of the Auror Division, came to the island for his monthly inspection of Azkaban. He and I were completely alone in one of the meeting rooms and he had his back to me. He set his wand down on the table so he could clean his glasses, and was completely off his guard. I took advantage of the opportunity and successfully put him under the Imperius."

Voldemort's hairless brows rose higher into his forehead. "While I am pleased by the outcome, I must express my concerns. How many times have you successfully cast an imperious before? Have you ever held one in place for an extended period of time? Your position could be jeopardized if he were to fight his way out from under your control."

"I've succeeded in my personal training numerous times. I'll admit I've never held one for an extended period, but there haven't been any complications so far. He returns to the prison once a month, and I estimate he will likely return to the island immediately following the attack on Azkaban, so I'll have numerous opportunities to renew the curse every time he comes."

Voldemort nodded his head. "Very well. Keep me up to date. I'll notify you whenever I have any specific tasks that we wish for Mr. McKinnon to perform for us."

The meeting went on for a bit longer as each of the Death Eaters gave their reports, and Voldemort gave each of them any new needed tasks.

– –

The following day at Hogwarts was Saturday, the 13th of October. There was a Gryffindor team Quidditch practice Saturday afternoon and a DAA meeting on Sunday afternoon. Harry was caught up, and in fact, _ahead_, on all of his reading and assignments, so aside from those two tasks, his weekend at school seemed to be totally free.

Saturday afternoon, as he was leaving the pitch with Ron and Ginny, trailing behind him, a third-year came jogging up to him and handed him a small, tightly bound, scroll of parchment. Harry pocketed it until they got to the common room where the group was greeted by Hermione and Neville. Hermione seemed to be attempting to help tutor Neville in Potions. As Harry sat down on one of the overstuffed couches, he could hear Hermione attempting to use references from Herbology – a subject that Neville was very comfortable with – to help him understand Potions.

Harry sighed and shook his head, thankful that he was spending his potion lessons with Draco and _not_ Neville, and quickly began to untie the small bit of twine that was holding the roll of parchment together.

Harry's eyes widened as he instantly recognized the long, slanted writing as Dumbledore's. It was another summons to the headmaster's office for a private 'lesson'. Harry frowned down at it, wondering what the hell Dumbledore could be planning. The last time Harry had been called to Dumbledore's office, the old coot had shown him a pensive memory of the fake prophecy. He had said that he wanted to continue to meet with Harry, although Harry had admittedly, sort of forgotten all about it. So what would this meeting entail?

Harry checked his watch. Dinner was in about a half hour, and the letter asked Harry to come to Dumbledore's office at 7:30pm.

Harry sighed with a slight air of impatience before turning to head up the stairs. Ron called after him, asking him where he was going, and Harry just said he was going to change and grab a book or something to read. Ron had rolled his eyes, muttering quietly under his breath as he turned towards one of the tables that currently had Dean, Seamus, and Lavender Brown perched around it, starting up a game of gobstones.

–

"Harry, you seem awfully distracted, is something the matter?" Hermione asked as the group sat down at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall and began to fill their plates with food. Harry frowned and sighed before fishing the rolled up parchment out of his robes pocket and handing it over.

After his last 'private lesson' with Dumbledore, Hermione and Ron had both grilled him as to what had happened. Harry had used the excuse that Dumbledore had asked him not to reveal what he'd been shown, simply because he had yet to decide how he was going to handle his two Gryffindor 'friends' and the whole prophecy mess. He certainly wasn't going to tell either of them Dumbledore's false prophecy, but he had no reasonable excuse yet to explain why he would know it was false, or how he could possibly know what the real one was. Plus, neither of his friends had gotten proficient enough in Occlumency to guard such delicate information, so there was simply no legitimate option to share it anyway.

Hermione had been studying Occlumency, of course, from a book that Harry had lent her, but Ron – as expected – simply lacked the patience or dedication to learn the challenging skill. He had chosen, instead, to simply avoid eye contact with Dumbledore or Snape. Harry sometimes felt that Ron was being a bit _obvious_ about the whole thing, but Ron was basically the fundamental stereotype of what a Gryffindor should be, and you really couldn't expect a true Gryffindor to understand subtly or cunning.

After reading over the scroll, Hermione looked back up at Harry with wide eyes. "Do you know what he's going to be teaching you?" Hermione asked in a hushed voice that really only served in drawing Ron's previously oblivious interest.

Harry shook his head and shrugged. "No clue. He didn't really explain any of his plans, even during the last one."

"And you really can't tell us what he showed you last time?" Hermione asked with a slightly pleading tone to her voice and a small frown.

Harry let out another heavy sigh. "I'm sorry Hermione. I need to know more about what's really going on before I feel comfortable talking about it. Maybe things will be clearer after tonight."

Hermione looked disappointed, but didn't argue any further and Harry was able to get back to his meal.

At 7:25pm, Harry left the Great Hall and quickly began to climb the stairs, making his way towards the headmaster's office on the seventh floor.

He reached the gargoyle, spoke the password that had been 'hinted' at in his summons, and quickly made his way up the spiral staircase and into Dumbledore's office. The elderly Headmaster was sitting in his chair with that infuriating genial smile on his face, complete with twinkling eyes. His pensive was, once again, placed upon his desk, clearly ready to be used by the pair of them for this 'lesson'.

"Ah, welcome Harry. Thank you for coming to see me today on such short notice," Dumbledore said, folding his hands on his desk.

"It's quite alright, sir," Harry said, in a voice that he forced to sound timid and unsure. "Is um... is this more about the prophecy that you told me last time? About how I'm supposed to defeat Voldemort?"

"It is my hope that what I am going to show you today is one thing among others that will eventually help you in accomplishing your goal of defeating Voldemort," Dumbledore said in a rather annoying evasive way.

Harry took on the air of a worried youth and nodded his head with a look of grim determination.

"Now, before I start, Harry, I want you to know that we will be leaving the firm ground of fact and venturing in the rocky territory of conjecture and guess work. I will be showing you memories from several different sources during our visits. The memory that I wish to show you tonight belonged to a man by the name of Bob Ogden. He was gracious enough to voluntarily provide me with this memory some years ago. I wish for us to both witness it first and after that, we can discuss what we've seen."

"Okay, sir." Harry said with a nod.

"Good, good." Dumbledore said with a smile as he stood and uncorked a small vile on his desk and poured it into the pensieve. A few moments later and both Dumbledore and Harry were entering the pensieve. Harry was overwhelmed by the sudden feeling of falling, and then the instant sensation of standing perfectly still.

He blinked owlishly to find that he was standing on a strangely familiar country lane bordered by high, tangled hedgerows, beneath a bright summer sky. Some ten feet in front of he and Dumbledore stood a short, plump man wearing enormously thick glasses that reduced his eyes to mole-like specks. He was reading a wooden signpost that was sticking out of the brambles on the left-hand side of the road.

He was also wearing the strange assortment of clothes so often chosen by inexperienced wizards trying to look like Muggles: in this case, a frock coat and spats over a striped one-piece bathing costume. Before Harry had time to do more than register his bizarre appearance, however, the wizard had set off at a brisk walk down the lane.

As he passed the wooden sign, Harry looked up at its two arms. The one pointing back the way they had come read: Great Hangleton, 5 miles. The arm pointing after the wizard said Little Hangleton, 1 mile. Harry suddenly realized precisely why this little dirt path looked so familiar, and Harry instantly found himself far more curious about the memory than he was some minutes earlier.

Harry and Dumbledore continued to follow the short fat man with nothing to see but the hedgerows, the wide blue sky overhead and the swishing, frock-coated figure ahead. Then the lane curved to the left and fell away, sloping steeply down a hillside, so that they had a sudden, unexpected view of a whole valley laid out in front of them. Harry could see Little Hangleton below, nestled between two steep hills, its church and graveyard clearly visible. Across the valley, set on the opposite hillside, was the oh-so-familiar manor house he had called home so very recently, surrounded by a wide expanse of velvety green lawn. It was strange seeing Riddle Manor looking so pristine and well kept. Even though Tom had fixed the place up quite a lot, most of his renovations were exclusive to the interior so Harry was more accustomed to the outside of the manor looking extremely decrepit.

Little Hangleton itself also looked strange to his eyes and Harry wondered suddenly just how long ago this memory took place.

He wondered if Little Hangleton was their destination, or if perhaps the manor was, but a sinking feeling inside him told him that their destination was most likely an entirely different, and far more humble home than the large, impressive, Riddle manor. He soon discovered that his suspicions were correct as the lane curved to the right and when they rounded the corner, it was to see the very edge of the wizard's frock coat vanishing through a gap in the hedge.

Harry and Dumbledore followed him onto a narrow dirt track bordered by higher and wilder hedgerows than those they had left behind. The path was crooked, rocky, and potholed, sloping downhill like the last one, and it seemed to be heading for a patch of dark trees a little below them. Sure enough, the track soon opened up at the copse, and Harry came to a halt behind the wizard, who had stopped and drawn his wand.

Despite the cloudless sky, the old trees ahead cast deep, dark, cool shadows, and it was a few seconds before Harry's eyes discerned the building half-hidden amongst the tangle of trunks. It was the Gaunt house. Not that Harry had ever actually seen it in person, but Tom had described it to him, and he knew this was the correct location for it. The fact that there was a dead snake nailed to the door was also a dead giveaway. Suddenly, one of the windows was thrown open with a clatter, and a thin trickle of steam or smoke issued from it, as though somebody was cooking.

The wizard moved forward quietly and, it seemed to Harry, rather cautiously. Then there was a rustle and a crack, and a man in rags dropped from the nearest tree, landing on his feet right in front of the wizard, who leapt backward so fast he stood on the tails of his frock coat and stumbled.

_§You're not welcome.§_

The man standing before them had thick hair so matted with dirt it could have been any color. Several of his teeth were missing. His eyes were small and dark and stared in opposite directions. He might have looked comical, but he did not; the effect was frightening, and Harry could not blame the wizard for backing away several more paces before he spoke.

"Er — good morning. I'm from the Ministry of Magic —"

_§You're not welcome.§_

"Er — I'm sorry — I don't understand you," said the wizard nervously.

For a moment, Harry thought the wizard was being extremely dim; the stranger, who Harry was fairly certain was Morfin Gaunt, was making himself very clear in Harry's opinion, particularly as he was brandishing a wand in one hand and a short and rather bloody knife in the other. But then realization hit him, the slight hissing at the end of the phrase. Of course, the Ministry wizard didn't understand him; Morfin was speaking parseltongue! That explained why he hadn't realized it before, to him it sounded like regular English and he and Tom slipped in and out of it so often and so easily that he often didn't even notice it when it happened. However, if he really made an effort he could distinguish the slight hissing. Morfin was now advancing on the Ministry wizard, knife in one hand, wand in the other.

"Now, look —" the wizard began, but too late: There was a bang, and the wizard was on the ground, clutching his nose, while a nasty yellowish goo squirted from between his fingers.

"Morfin!" said a loud voice.

An elderly man had come hurrying out of the cottage, banging the door behind him so that the dead snake swung pathetically. This man was shorter than Morfin, and oddly proportioned; his shoulders were very broad and his arms overlong, which, with his bright brown eyes, short scrubby hair, and wrinkled face, gave him the look of a powerful, aged monkey. Harry knew instantly that this man had to be Marvolo Gaunt – Tom's grandfather. Marvolo came to a halt beside Morfin, who was now cackling with laughter at the sight of the wizard on the ground.

"Ministry, is it?" said Marvolo, looking down at the wizard.

"Correct! I'm Mr. Ogden," said the wizard angrily, dabbing his face. "And you, I take it, are Mr. Gaunt?"

"S'right," said Marvolo. "Got you in the face, did he?"

"Yes, he did!" snapped Ogden.

"Should've made your presence known, shouldn't you?" said Marvolo aggressively. "This is private property. Can't just walk in here and not expect my son to defend himself."

"Defend himself against what, man?" said Ogden, clambering back to his feet.

"Busybodies. Intruders! Muggles and filth," retorted Gaunt.

Ogden pointed his wand at his own nose, which was still issuing large amounts of what looked like yellow pus, and the flow stopped at once.

The memory continued from there. Ogden and the two Gaunts argued with Marvolo and Morfin engaging in some conversation in parseltongue, much to Ogden's obvious displeasure. Harry had to fight the smirk when he realized that he was able to understand significant portions of this memory that even Dumbledore himself couldn't.

Finally, Ogden insisted upon going into the house. It seemed that the Ministry had sent them some sort of warning and notice that Morfin needed to appear at the Ministry for a trail since he had been detected assaulting a muggle with magic.

The house seemed to contain three tiny rooms. Two doors led off the main room, which served as kitchen and living room combined. Morfin sat down in a chair and began to hiss to a live adder in parseltongue. Harry heard a noise coming from the portion of the open room that was made up of the kitchen space and was startled to find a rather sad and ragged looking girl there. This had to be Merope. This was Tom's mother.

Marvolo began to speak with Mr. Ogden again about the charges the Ministry was trying to bring against Morfin. At some point Merope managed to drop and break a large kettle, at which point Marvolo bellowed angrily at the girl and accused her of being a squib when she failed to mend the kettle with magic. Ogden saved her the trouble and used his wand to mend it for her.

The arguing between Marvolo and Ogden continued as Ogden tried to explain that Morfin had been summoned for a hearing.

"It is a summons to the Ministry for a hearing —"

"Summons! Summons? Who do you think you are, summoning my son anywhere?"

"I'm Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad," said Ogden.

"And you think we're scum, do you?" screamed Marvolo, advancing on Ogden now, with a dirty yellow-nailed finger pointing at his chest. "Scum who'll come running when the Ministry tells 'em to? Do you know who you're talking to, you filthy little Mudblood, do you?"

"I was under the impression that I was speaking to Mr. Gaunt," said Ogden, looking wary, but standing his ground.

"That's right!" roared Marvolo. For a moment, Harry thought Marvolo was making an obscene hand gesture at the Ministry wizard, but then realized that he was showing Ogden the black-stoned ring he was wearing on his middle finger, waving it before Harry's own eyes and causing him to gasp.

Dumbledore seemed to notice Harry's recognition, but did not remark on it.

"See this? See this? Know what it is? Know where it came from? Centuries it's been in our family, that's how far back we go, and pureblood all the way! Know how much I've been offered for this, with the Peverell coat of arms engraved on the stone?"

"I've really no idea," said Ogden, blinking as the ring sailed within an inch of his nose, "and it's quite beside the point, Mr. Gaunt. Your son has committed —"

With a howl of rage, Gaunt ran toward his daughter. For a split second, Harry thought he was going to throttle her as his hand flew to her throat; next moment, he was dragging her toward Ogden by a chain around her neck.

"See this?" he bellowed at Ogden, shaking a heavy locket at him, while Merope spluttered and gasped for breath.

Harry had to stifle the gasp that tried to escape form between his lips when he got a good look at the locket. It was the very same locket he had recovered from Grimmauld place and given to Tom a month and a half prior. Tom had told him the story of how he had taken it from an old witch who had bought it from Borgin, who had in turn, bought it for 'a pittance' from some ragged, desperate-looking witch many years earlier. But this was truly proof that the locket had once belonged to Tom's mother.

"I see it, I see it!" said Ogden hastily.

"Slytherins!" yelled Gaunt. "Salazar Slytherin's! We're his last living descendants, what do you say to that, eh?"

"Mr. Gaunt, your daughter!" said Ogden in alarm, but Gaunt had already released Merope; she staggered away from him, back to her corner, massaging her neck and gulping for air.

"So!" said Gaunt triumphantly, as though he had just proved a complicated point beyond all possible dispute. "Don't you go talking to us as if we're dirt on your shoes! Generations of purebloods, wizards all — more than you can say, I don't doubt!"

And he spat on the floor at Ogden's feet. Morfin cackled again. Merope, huddled beside the window, her head bowed and her face hidden by her lank hair, said nothing.

More arguing commenced and was only broken when the sounds of horses, and voices trailed in through the kitchen window. It quickly became clear to Harry that the voices from outside belonged to a pair of muggles – the very same muggle that Morfin was accused of having attacked. A muggle named _Tom_.

Merope looked torn between wanting to run out and watch the owner of the voice, and wanting to cower somewhere in terror. Morfin began to hiss to Marvolo that Merope fancied the muggle and that was why he had attacked the man – to teach his stupid filthy sister a lesson.

Marvolo exploded at poor Merope and more insanity quickly ensued. As Marvolo attempted to attack Merope, Ogden intervened and shot his own spell at the elder Gaunt. Morfin quickly joined the fray, brandishing his knife and throwing hexes indiscriminately from his wand.

Ogden quickly ran for his life and Harry and Dumbledore followed the wizard to not lose the image of Ogden's memory while Merope's screams echoed in his ears.

The wizard hurtled up the path and erupted onto the main lane, his arms over his head, where he collided with the glossy chestnut horse ridden by a very handsome, dark-haired young man. Both he and the pretty girl riding beside him on a gray horse roared with laughter at the sight of Ogden, who bounced off the horse's flank and set off again, his frock coat flying, covered from head to foot in dust, running pell-mell up the lane.

Harry found himself stunned as he looked upon the handsome muggle man who was still laughing at Ogden. Those happy, mirth-filled eyes were exactly like Tom's... only they were a dark brown instead of the ruby red Harry was used to.

His features were just like Tom's as well. So very similar. It was definitely obvious that Tom took after his father almost solely – which was a good thing because poor Merope was not exactly a very pretty woman.

The memory began to fade out and Harry felt himself being pulled back to reality. A moment later he found himself sitting in the chair opposite Dumbledore's desk again, feeling mildly disoriented.

Harry looked up owlishly to find Dumbledore smiling down at him expectantly. Harry blinked at his headmaster as he quickly began to wrack his brain for some idea of how he would have reacted to this memory had he not known what he knew.

"Do you know what happened to the girl, sir?" Harry asked, realizing that Dumbledore would most likely expect him to show a certain level of concern for the girl.

"Oh, she survived," said Dumbledore, reseating himself behind his desk. "Ogden apparated back to the Ministry and returned with reinforcements fifteen minutes later. Morfin and his father attempted to fight, but both were overpowered, removed from the cottage and subsequently convicted by the Wizengamot. Morfin, who already had a record of muggle attacks, was sentenced to three years in Azkaban. Marvolo, who had injured several Ministry employees in addition to Ogden, received six months."

"Marvolo... as in Tom Marvolo Riddle?" Harry asked, seeing this as a good opportunity to move things along to what was more obviously the point of all this.

"That's right, I'm glad to see you're keeping up. The old man was Voldemort's grandfather," said Dumbledore. "Marvolo, his son Morfin and his daughter Merope were the last of the Gaunts, a very ancient wizarding family noted for a vein of instability and violence that flourished through the generations due to their habit of marrying their own cousins. Lack of sense coupled with a great liking for grandeur meant that the family gold was squandered several generations before Marvolo was born. He, as you saw, was left in squalor and poverty, with a very nasty temper, a fantastic amount of arrogance and pride, and a couple of family heirlooms that he treasured just as much as his son and rather more than his daughter."

"So Merope was … was Voldemort's mother?" Harry asked, continuing to move things along.

"Yes, she was," answered Dumbledore. "And it happens that we also had a glimpse of Voldemort's father. I wonder whether you noticed?"

Harry nodded. "The man on the horse? The muggle Morfin attacked?"

"Very good indeed," beamed Dumbledore. "Yes, that was Tom Riddle Sr, the handsome muggle who used to ride past the Gaunt cottage and for whom Merope Gaunt cherished, secret passion."

"And they ended up married?" asked Harry, feeling honestly curious as to how this had actually come to pass. He wondered suddenly how much of this Tom actually knew.

"I think you are forgetting that Merope was a witch," said Dumbledore. "I do not believe that her magical powers appeared to their best advantage when she was being terrorized by her father. Once Marvolo and Morfin were safely in Azkaban, once she was alone and free for the first time in her life , then, I am sure, she was able to give full reign to her abilities and plot her escape from the desperate life she had led for eighteen years. Can you not think of any measure Merope could have taken to make Tom Riddle forget his muggle companion, and fall in love with her instead?"

"Amortentia," said Harry. "Or the Imperius curse?"

"Very good. Personally, I am inclined to think that she used a love potion. I am sure it would have seemed more romantic to her and I do not think it would have been too difficult, some hot day, when Riddle was riding alone, to persuade him to take a drink of water. In any case, within the few months after the scene we have just witnessed, the village of Little Hangleton enjoyed a tremendous scandal. You can imagine the gossip it caused when the squire's son ran off with the tramp's daughter Merope.

"But the villagers' shock was nothing to Marvolo's. He returned from Azkaban, expecting to find his daughter dutifully awaiting his return with a hot meal on his table. Instead, he found a clear inch of dust and her note of farewell, explaining what she had done.

"From all that I have been able to discover, he never mentioned her name or existence from that time forth. The shock of her desertion may have contributed to his early death or perhaps he had simply never learned to feed himself. Azkaban had greatly weakened Marvolo and he did not live to see Morfin return to the cottage."

"And Merope? She died, didn't she? Wasn't Voldemort brought up in an orphanage?"

"Yes, indeed," said Dumbledore. "We must do a certain amount of guessing here, although I do not think it is difficult to deduce what happened. You see, within a few month of their runaway marriage, Tom Riddle Sr. returned to the manor house in Little Hangleton without his wife. The rumor flew around the neighborhood that he was talking of being 'hoodwinked' and 'taken in'. What he meant, I am sure, is that he had been under an enchantment that had now lifted, though I daresay he did not dare use those precise words for fear of being thought insane. When they heard what he was saying however the villagers guessed that Merope had lied to Tom Riddle, pretending that she was going to have his baby, and that he married her for this reason."

"But she did have his baby."

"Yes, but not until a year after they were married. Tom Riddle left her while she was still pregnant."

"Why? Did the potion stop working?"

"Again, this is guesswork," said Dumbledore, "but I believe that Merope, who was deeply in love with her husband, could not bear to continue enslaving him by magical means- I believe that she made the choice to stop giving him the potion. Perhaps, besotted as she was, she had convinced herself that by now, he would have fallen in love with her in return. Perhaps she thought he would stay for the baby's sake. If so, she was wrong on both counts. He left her, never saw her again, and never troubled to discover what became of his son."

"So he abandoned her, even though she was pregnant?" Harry remarked angrily.

Dumbledore sighed and nodded his head. "That he did. However, one can not entirely blame him for having left after being put under the effects of a powerful potion and not understanding what had happened."

"Even if he left _her_, he shouldn't have just abandoned his own child," Harry remarked bitterly, feeling a rather powerful anger welling deep inside him on Tom's behalf.

"Ah yes... there is no telling what our history could have looked like if Tom Riddle Sr. had stayed behind long enough to ensure the safety and well-being of his son." Dumbledore said with a heavy sigh. "But there are some other portions of the memory that I wish to draw your attention to, Harry. There were two artifacts in this memory that have a significance that will become clear in later visits. Do you remember the locket that Merope was wearing?"

Harry frowned and nodded slowly as if he were having trouble remembering. "Yes... Marvolo Gaunt said that it belonged to Slytherin, right?"

"That is correct, Harry. Now there was one other artifact –"

"The ring!" Harry exclaimed and his eyes instantly fell onto the ring that Dumbledore himself was still wearing on his mangled hand. "Sir! It's the same one, isn't it? The one you have on your hand?"

Dumbledore's eyes widened as if he were surprised that Harry had actually made this connection, before he quickly schooled his expression and smiled kindly. "You are right again, Harry. Yes, this ring is the very same ring that we saw in that memory."

"Will you tell me the significance of that ring now, then?" Harry asked, sounding hopeful.

"Ah... not just yet, Harry. We still have other things to cover first before we can get onto the true significance of this ring."

Harry frowned slightly, but inside he was fuming. "Alright, sir." Harry let out a small sigh and tried to control and subdue his emotions and school his features completely. "Sir, I'm curious... this memory is interesting and all, but what good could it possibly do in helping me defeat Voldemort?"

"Ah, that is a very valid question to ask. The answer to which, will become more apparent in later meetings. Now, it is getting quite late and I know if I don't let you go soon, you will be late for your prefect duties."

Harry blinked. "Wait, that's it?"

"For tonight – yes. I will send you another note when I am ready to show you the next set of memories."

Harry kept his expression blank but the anger was only growing stronger deep inside him. This man was truly infuriating. What an obscenely stupid waste of time. It was obvious where Dumbledore was trying to go with this. It was all about what objects Tom had chosen for his horcruxes, but Harry wondered why Dumbledore felt possessed to show him these little memories instead of simply tell him what he thought the objects were. He couldn't help but wonder if Dumbledore actually knew what _all_ of the other horcruxes were.

"Okay... thank you, sir." Harry mumbled as he stood up, bid Dumbledore goodnight and quickly left the office

– –

That night after returning to the abbey and going back 24-hours, Harry lay in bed telling Tom about all that he had seen. Tom's face had taken on a stunned mask as Harry described the memory of Tom's mother and father. Tom had been rather quite after that and Harry could feel a rumble of confused emotions simmering across the link.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked tentatively as Tom climbed into bed.

Tom frowned, knitting his eyebrows together for a moment. "Yes..." he said slowly. "It's... odd. I hadn't really thought much of any of them in a very long time. If anything, what you told me only adds additional validation to my actions during my youth."

"You mean when you went to Little Hangleton and killed them all?"

"Well, technically I did not kill Morfin – although I almost wish I had... I merely framed him for the murder of the muggles. He died in Azkaban. And Marvolo had already died years before I ever got there."

Harry nodded his head. He was lying on his side with his arm up, folded at the elbow and propping his head up on the heel of his palm. Tom turned onto his side and met Harry's intense green eyes. They merely stared at each other for a long moment before Tom sighed.

"Honestly, Harry, I'm not really sure what I'm feeling at the moment. It's rather... confusing." He chuckled humorlessly and sighed again. "My emotions never used to be this complicated. I blame it entirely on you."

Harry smiled weakly. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

Tom chuckled and smiled reassuringly at Harry. "A good thing."

"Good."


	22. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary: Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta Pass tannne

AN: I really like this chapter. Most specifically, I really like the end of it. The next chapter will include the break-in at Azkaban.

– –

Chapter 21

The next day held some significance for the two of them because they spent most of the day down in the lab adding the finishing touches to the fake Peverell ring. Tom had spent weeks completing the complex layering of spells to create the illusion that it was a horcrux.

He had used pensieve memories in order to recreate a duplicate of the ring itself, and to simulate the unique magical signature he remembered the ring having before he had added his own soul to it. It had been an arduous process, but it was finally done.

They conjured a very small wooden box and placed the ring inside it. Harry then slipped it into his pocket with the intention of _always_ keeping it with him so that he would be ready the instant any opportunity presented itself for him to switch it with the real ring.

– –

Monday morning at Hogwarts arrived and Harry quickly tucked into his breakfast. When the post owls began to arrive, an unfamiliar barn owl swooped down in front of Hermione clutching a thick, rolled-up magazine-looking thing. Hermione squealed slightly with excitement and quickly removed the owl's burden before giving it a piece of bacon.

The 'magazine' turned out to be that month's copy of the '_Journal of Magical Genealogical Study'_. It was one of the wizarding journals that, Professor Phoebus Penrose had published her paper, _'The Annihilation of the Muggleborn Myth'__,_in. Hermione, apparently, had owl-ordered for a copy of the journal and had been waiting eagerly for it ever since.

Hermione quickly forgot all about her breakfast as she instantly began to flip through the journal in search of the article. Harry was amused, if not a bit stunned, that Hermione continued to read it, even through History of Magic. History was a throwaway class, and everyone knew that – except for Hermione. She _always _paid attention in that class. So to see her actually blowing it off was a sign of just how interested she was in what she was reading.

–

The rest of the day went normally up until dinner. As Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, and two of Ginny's dorm mates, were entering the Great Hall, they were met with the sight of an unfamiliar presence at the Head Table with the rest of the Professors. There seemed to be an obvious air of displeasure among the Professors, as quite a few were holding very tight expressions, or openly frowning at the intruder

"Wonder who that is," Ginny said, glancing up at the Head Table as the group sat down at the Gryffindor table.

Harry glanced up, taking on an air of curious confusion. The intruder was a short, squat woman wearing far too much pink. It was easy to guess who she was. When Lucius had described her as a 'toad', Harry hadn't realized that the man had meant it literally, for she truly did resemble a bullfrog.

Harry shrugged. "Dunno," he said as he focused on the plates of food in front of him, and sorting out just what he wanted to eat.

About a half hour into the meal, when the Great Hall was at its fullest, a tinkling sound of silverware tapping against a glass goblet could be heard echoing loudly through the great hall. The sound was magically amplified, so there was no chance of anyone missing it. The din of noise quieted almost instantly and all eyes went up to the Head Table where Dumbledore was standing up.

"I have an announcement to make," Dumbledore called out once everyone had quieted down. "Hogwarts will be playing host to a guest for the coming weeks. Dolores Umbridge, the Senior Undersecretary of Minister Cornelius Fudge will be joining us in her new capacity as Educational High Inquisitor. She will be sitting in on many of your classes. Please do make her feel welcome during her stay with us."

Dumbledore began to sit back down and the entire hall just stared at him with confusion and a bit of shock. Clearly, no one quite knew what to make of this recent development.

Just as Dumbledore was about to reclaim his seat, a high-pitched voice sounded from the seat beside him, at the pink toad woman stood up.

"Hem-Hem... Thank you, headmaster, for those kind words of welcome. The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of a vital importance. Although each headmaster has brought something new to this... _historic_ school, progress for the sake of progress must be discouraged. Let us preserve what must be preserved, perfect what can be perfected and prune practices that ought to be... prohibited.

"The Ministry of Magic has, in recent months, become increasingly aware of the falling standards of education here at Hogwarts. I have been appointed by the Minister himself to make sure that the unsatisfactory teachers are removed from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and replaced with Professors capable of providing you with the high standard of education expected from such a highly acclaimed magical institution. You all deserve the best education that you can get, and I am here to guarantee that happens."

With that, she gave a sadistically sugary smile and sat back down.

The hall was dead silent for a minute before a rush of hushed conversation surged forth. The professors were even more openly frowning now and a few looked very nervous, while the students didn't seem quite to know what to make of everything.

"What do you think this means?" Ginny asked the Gryffindors all seated near her.

Hermione was frowning the most. "It means that the Ministry is trying to interfere at Hogwarts."

"Is that really so bad, though?" Harry asked, quietly.

Hermione looked at him with an air of surprise. "Of course it is! Why wouldn't it be?"

"Well, it was because of the Minister that we got Professor Rowle in, wasn't it? And he's doing a fantastic job."

"What?" Ron exclaimed, looking surprised.

"Didn't you know?" Harry asked. "Dumbledore couldn't find anyone willing to fill the post of Defense teacher. Fudge stepped in and selected Professor Rowle to take the job."

Even Hermione looked surprised. "I didn't know that."

"I mean... maybe it seems a bit harsh, but you've got to admit that there are a few staff members who really do need to be sacked." Harry said.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed.

"What? Oh, come on, Hermione... Professor Binns? You seriously think that _he_ is the best we could possibly have for a History Professor? He's _dead_, for Merlin's sake. And, thanks to him, hardly anyone has gone all the way through to NEWT level History in literally _decades._ History is an important subject, and yet no one gives a damn about it because Binns is such a rotten teacher."

Hermione looked considerably torn between reprimanding Harry for disrespecting a teacher, and grudgingly agreeing with him.

"It's because the magical world is so eager to forget the past that all these ignorant beliefs about muggleborns exist today. If people were better capable of remembering our own history, people would know exactly where magic originated and how witches and wizards came to exist. But they don't remember, so all these lies spout up and it fuels the bigots who are looking for a group to hate and blame for their problems."

Hermione frowned and looked thoughtful for a minute. "Well... if we were able to get a really good History teacher, that _would_ probably be really nice..."

"Yeah, and what about Trelawney?" Ron added in. "I certainly wouldn't mind if _she_ got the boot."

Hermione didn't even bother acting scandalized at that and Harry smirked.

"So you see... this _could_ be a good thing." Harry said.

Hermione sighed and shrugged. "I suppose..."

– –

The following week seemed to progressing horrifyingly slow and Harry was definitely glad for his alternating days at the abbey to save his sanity from the utter frustration of his days at Hogwarts.

Dolores Umbridge was truly nasty woman. Her sugary, high-pitched voice, combined with her barely disguised disdain for anything and everything she didn't entirely approve of, was quickly grating on Harry's nerves. What was _really_ driving him mad, however, was the way the rest of his classmates were reacting to the stupid cow.

The Slytherins were mostly treating her with indifference, or were sucking up to her with glorious success. The Gryffindors were not that smart, however. It seemed that they lived to get on the woman's bad side. It had become apparent very quickly on Tuesday that High Inquisitor Umbridge had been granted the power to give and take house points, as well as assign detentions with Filch, even though she wasn't an actual teacher.

The Gryffindors, almost as a whole, as well as a number of other students – mostly Hufflepuffs – saw her presence in the school as an unwarranted attack from the Ministry, into matters that weren't their business in the first place. And it was an attack that they needed to defend themselves against.

And so, despite the potential good that could come out of her presence, the majority of the students that Harry was surrounded by on a daily basis, could do nothing but bitch and moan about the woman – _constantly_. The most annoying part was that everyone seemed to expect _Harry_ to do something. They were always looking at him, expectantly, whenever she did something they found exceptionally outrageous. Like they were just waiting for him to blow up at the woman, defending the honor of Hogwarts and Dumbledore. But maintaining his cover wasn't reason enough for him to intentionally get on the woman's bad side. He was no idiot. So he stayed quiet.

Harry was getting entirely sick of his classmates expectations and their behavior. He wished that they'd all find a new subject to go on and on about, because their constant whining about Umbridge was wearing on his last nerve. His housemates were being a bunch of hot-headed, morons, who couldn't look two inches past their own noses to see the benefits this would have for them in the long run. Instead choosing to cause themselves a huge headache by constantly butting heads with a woman who had authority over them, and more than enough desire to use that authority to make all of their lives miserable.

Thursday night, after having to endure an _hour_ of non-stop bitching and griping by Ron, Seamus, Dean, the Twins, Lee Jordon, and two sixth years Harry only vaguely knew, Harry lost the last grip of his patience and left the common room, barely containing the sharp annoyed words he wanted to throw at the group of stupid Gryffindors.

It was 8:30pm, so there was still some time before Harry had to begin his prefect duties. He ducked into an alcove and pulled out the Marauder's Map. His eyes scanned the map as he tried to think of some secluded hole that he could escape to for a while to get away from his housemates. Suddenly his eyes were drawn to the name _Draco Malfoy_, standing alone along one of the ramparts that stretched along the portion of the castle that stretched between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor towers.

His curiosity peaked, Harry made his way there. A few minutes later, Harry found himself pushing open a heavy wooden door and bracing himself against the frigid chill of the night air. He pulled his cloak tighter against himself and began walking along, keeping close to the battlements to block the wind as much as possible.

"Potter?" Draco's familiar voice sounded with an obvious air of surprise. Harry looked down and grinned at what he saw. Malfoy was sitting down with his back leaning against the battlements, and a muggle cigarette hanging loosely from between his lips.

"Hullo Draco," Harry said, speeding up his pace a bit and coming to stand next to Draco. "Mind if I sit?"

Draco blinked in surprise but quickly recovered and nodded his head. "Sure."

Harry quickly sat down and instantly noticed that Draco had cast some area charms to block the wind and warm the area up some. He sighed in relief as the bitter cold disappeared to be replaced by reasonably warm, still, air.

"What are you doing here?" Draco asked after a moment.

Harry shrugged. "Had to escape the Gryffindors. Their endless bitching was getting on my last nerve and I was afraid if I stuck around much longer I would explode and blow my cover."

Draco raised a single brow in mild surprise before he grinned and snickered lightly. "I would think you'd be used to them by now. You _have_ had to live with nothing but Gryffindors for the last four years at school. Hell, you used to be _one of them._"

"_Used _to be, being the key word. And being accustomed to being around them doesn't mean they don't drive me up the wall.. Plus, I spent the last summer surrounded by the Dark Lord and a bunch of Death Eaters. It's a fairly significant contrast, and personally? I prefer the Death Eaters."

Draco chuckled and shook his head slightly. They were quite for another minute as Draco pulled in a long drag from his cigarette.

"So you smoke?" Harry asked.

"Yes..." Draco hesitated for a moment before smirking. "You want one?" Draco asked, digging the pack out of his robe's inner vest pocket.

"Yeah, sure." Harry said, accepting one of the thin cigarettes. He placed it between his lips and lit the tip with his wand. He took in a long slow drag before blowing the smoke out slowly and heaving a long sigh of relief.

Draco watched the entire process with obvious surprise. "This is clearly not your first cigarette," he observed.

Harry laughed lightly and took another drag. "About half way through July I started bumming smokes off the Dark Lord whenever he lit up."

Draco choked and looked at Harry with utter incredulity. "Are you joking?"

Harry laughed. "Nope. Not at all."

"The Dark Lord smokes... and he let you bum cigarettes off him?" Draco echoed, incredulously.

Harry grinned and nodded his head, amused with Draco's reaction. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"Yes." Draco replied instantly, earning him another laugh from Harry.

Draco continued to stare at Harry, looking at him as if he were desperately trying to work something out in his head. Harry chose to just ignore it and wait for Draco to gather his thoughts. Instead, he continued to sit there and relax while he finished off the cigarette.

"These are really good cigarettes," Harry remarked after a moment.

"Er... yes, they are. They're magically improved. I get them from a wizard supplier. Charmed so as not to cause all those nasty side effects like lung disease the muggles deal with, but still provide the same sort of buzz. Father insisted that if I was going to do it at all, that I at least get these."

Harry nodded his head in approval and looked down at the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger with renewed respect.

"You really _lived_ with him, all summer?" Draco asked suddenly.

"The Dark Lord? Yes, Draco. I was pretty sure we'd already established that." Harry replied.

"Well... what I mean is... how much exposure did you get to him, exactly? I mean, I suppose I thought you just lived in some room at his manor and never really came out or interacted with the Death Eaters. But you make it sound like you interacted with them a lot. Father and Severus were _both_ shocked to learn that you'd lived there all summer. I get that you were in that snake form of yours, but..." Draco's voice trailed off with a tinge of frustration.

"I was under a glamour for most of it, actually." Harry replied with a bored tone.

"A glamour?"

"Yeah. I went around most all of the summer pretending to be just another Death Eater. I attended all of the training meetings that the others attended. The Dark Lord also gave me personal lessons before that."

"You really did get personal lessons?" Draco exclaimed with obvious awe and jealousy breaking through his normally stoic mask.

"Yup. It was really brilliant."

"Does Severus or anyone else know who you were? I mean, when you were glamoured?"

"Thor and Barty both know, but Snape doesn't."

"Why them and not Severus?"

Harry shrugged. "Severus always hated me. I mean, we get on a lot better now than we used to be, but I'm still far from being his favorite person. I got pretty friendly with both Barty and Thor this summer, so I felt comfortable telling them. Barty was there for the Dark Lord's resurrection, actually."

"Wow... and Barty was actually Professor Moody last year, right?"

"Yup."

"So... okay, you spent time with Professor Rowle and Barty Crouch, but how much time did you actually spend with... with _Him?_ With the Dark Lord?"

"Uhm... well... a lot, actually." Harry said slowly as he wondered how much he should say.

"A lot? Seriously? Did he... did he ever curse you?"

Harry frowned. "Well... in our training sessions, _sure_. Loads of times. But I assume you're asking if he ever punished me with a Crucio or something, right?"

"Right."

"Then no. He's never crucio'd me for punishment." Harry answered with a one-shouldered shrug.

"Never?"

"Never."

"That's hard for me to believe." Draco said, looking skeptical.

Harry shrugged again. "It's true. He and I actually get on pretty well."

"Now that is _really_ hard for me to believe." Draco said giving Harry a flat, disbelieving look.

Harry laughed. "You'd be surprised just how much he and I have in common. Plus, I think he likes having someone besides Nagini to speak to in parseltongue."

"Nagini?"

"His snake."

"Oh..."

The two slid back into silence and Draco pulled out another couple cigarettes and offered one to Harry who took it appreciatively.

"So are you going back to his manor next summer?" Draco asked.

"He's not using the manor anymore."

"Huh?"

"The manor that we were using when you came over the summer? Dumbledore found it. He couldn't get through the wards, but it would only be a matter of time, so we left it. The Dark Lord is using an old castle now, and yes – I will be going back next summer. I intend to go back for the Yule holidays as well, but Dumbledore might try to stick his nose in my business and try to dictate where I can go. I'll have to wait and determine the best course of action to take once I know what he tries to do."

"You're going to spend Yule with the Dark Lord?" Draco asked, looking stunned.

"We _are_ related. You're supposed to spend the holidays with family, right?"

Draco blinked. "I'd almost forgotten about that... Merlin, that's weird..." Draco shook his head to clear it and took another drag. "So you mentioned a castle? It sounds like you've been there."

"Yup. I have." Harry paused for a moment before mentally shrugging. "I actually own it."

"_You_ own it?"

"Yeah. It belonged to the Potters and I inherited it."

"You own a _castle?_"

Harry smirked. "You know, the Potters have almost as much money as the Malfoys do. Problem is that it has stagnated in the last couple decades because there hasn't been anyone actively managing the investments. It's just been sitting around collecting interest. Some of the businesses my family owned significant stock in have gone under, while some others have flourished."

Draco scoffed in shock. "If you've got so much money, why have you dressed like a bloody pauper all these years?"

Harry chuckled weakly. "I mostly didn't know about it – the money I mean. I saw my trust vault for the first time when I was eleven and thought that was it. I had no idea that there was a family vault _too_, and definitely didn't have any idea that I owned any _properties_. I think Dumbledore probably took steps to try and guarantee that I wouldn't go asking questions and learning more about my family heritage than he deemed appropriate. I'm sure the last thing he wanted was me learning that the wizard I was actually named after – my great-grandfather Harrison Potter – was a _Slytherin_. Or that I'm actually _related to you_. He didn't want me to realize that I actually had familial ties with living, breathing wizards out there. Especially since every familial tie I've got is with a Dark wizard." Harry ended with a bitter chuckle.

"I thought all Potters were Gryffindors?" Draco exclaimed.

"Nope. Harrison Potter was a Slytherin. His brother Daniel Potter was a Ravenclaw. Their father, Heathcliff Potter, was also a Slytherin, while his sister was a Hufflepuff. The Potters were historically all over the place. Every house in Hogwarts has had a number of Potters in it. My dad and grandfather were both Gryffindors and were both outspoken Light wizards, but before them, the Potters were mostly moderates."

"I... didn't know that." Draco replied a bit dumbstruck.

"I'm sure Dumbledore has eagerly helped to spread the idea of the Potters as a historically Light family since he wants to propagate the idea that the Boy-Who-Lived is loyal to only him." Harry sneered and rolled his eyes.

Draco snorted and Harry couldn't help but shoot the blond a highly amused look at the Malfoy heir making such an undignified noise.

"Well, he's clearly misinformed if he thinks you're loyal to only him." Draco drawled.

Harry sniggered and took another drag.

After a minute of quiet chuckling, the pair slipped into easy silence again.

"You're a good teacher, you know that?" Draco said, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Huh?"

"The Dark Arts classes. You're really good at teaching."

"Oh. Thanks. I learned from the best."

Draco gave a curt nod.

"The Slytherins are really starting to respect you."

Harry nodded slowly and grinned lightly. "Good."

"It's weird. The younger ones – the ones who don't know what's really going on yet? Whenever one of them tries to talk bad about you in the common room, one of the older years always comes over and shuts them up."

"There are going to end up starting rumors if they keep that up." Harry said, frowning slightly.

"We're _Slytherins_, Potter, not bloody _Gryffindors._ They know better than to let rumors like that get outside the house."

Harry nodded slowly and finished off his cigarette.

"You come here often to smoke?" Harry asked, shifting the subject.

"Often enough. Usually before my prefect rounds."

"Mind if I join you more often?"

Draco looked at Harry for a minute before nodding his head. "Fine."

Harry grinned.

"But you need to get your own damn cigarettes. The Dark Lord may let you bum off him all the time, but _I_ won't."

Harry laughed and shrugged. "Well, I can certainly afford it. But I don't really know where to get them. You said something about a magical supplier, so do you owl order yours or something?"

"Yeah, I'll get you information of where I get them from."

"Thanks," Harry said chuckling. He heaved a reluctant sigh and finally pushed himself up to his feet. "Well, it's been fun, Draco. Definitely better company than I was dealing with before."

"I would certainly hope so," Draco drawled, tipping his nose into the air snootily and earning him another chuckled from Harry.

"Thanks for the smokes." Harry took a step forward and left the barrier of Draco's warming charm and shivered. He pulled his robes tightly around him, bid Draco goodbye, and walked briskly back down towards the door that led back into the castle..

– –

The next day Harry helped Hermione with the final steps to her family tapestry potion. It was officially finished, however they were still missing one key ingredient before they could complete the needed ritual and actually make the family tree tapestry. What they needed, was the tapestry itself. Rather, the large piece of fabric that would hold the family tree on it.

The tapestry had to be made on a magical loom and constructed of specially charmed threads. It was expensive and had to be custom ordered. When Hermione had gotten the first quote back on how much it would cost, she had been devastated because she didn't think she could possibly ask her parents to send her that much money for it. Harry had then insisted that he was more than willing to pay for it.

When Hermione refused, Harry pointed out that her birthday had been in mid September, and he hadn't gotten her a gift this year. The tapestry was now officially to be considered her late birthday gift and that he would be terribly hurt if she turned down his present.

She had scowled at him and told him he was playing dirty, but Harry had just smiled sweetly back and filled out the order form with the information for billing his vault.

This had all taken place about two weeks prior. The tapestry fabric had an estimated completion date and arrival of mid-November.

They spent their free afternoon period putting the potion into a fairly large container and sealing the lid. They cast a set of specified stasis charms on it to preserve the potion until it was time to actually apply it to the tapestry, and then left for dinner.

– –

The weekend before Halloween was a Hogsmeade weekend. Back in the last week of August when the Order had picked Harry up at the Leaky Cauldron, and Tom, as 'Nicodemus', had said that he would come to visit for the Hogsmeade trip before Halloween, Harry hadn't _honestly_ thought he meant it. He assumed it was just sort of 'for show' for the Order members. Surely Tom didn't actually intend to come to Hogsmeade when it was filled to the brim with Hogwarts students and staff...?

Apparently he did.

But then again, Tom had come to Hogwarts itself in August to accompany Harry for his proficiency tests, and had a nice little chat with Dumbledore while at it, so Harry realized that he shouldn't really be that surprised.

Harry exited the doors of the castle and headed towards the path that would lead down to Hogsmeade, following behind Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville, who Hermione had insisted on inviting despite Ron's response of 'What? You want to invite Neville? _Why?_' which had only earned him a glare from Hermione.

Harry felt an odd sense of trepidation. His 'friends' already knew that Nicodemus was supposed to meet him in Hogsmeade, and they were all expecting to be introduced to his boyfriend. It was... weird. Obviously, none of them would realize who it was they were actually meeting, but it still seemed exceedingly odd to be introducing the group of Gryffindors (and one Ravenclaw) to the Dark Lord in the guise of a teenager.

It seemed almost surreal. A strange collision between two of his normally very separate worlds. He wasn't even totally sure how to act around Tom at the same time as his school 'friends'. And, what if he slipped up and called him 'Tom' instead of 'Nick'? This seemed an especially valid concern considering that Ginny was going to be there.

Tom himself did not have access to the memories that his soul from the diary had experienced with Ginny, but Ginny very much still remembered the 9-months of her life that had been consumed by Tom's diary.

Harry wondered sometimes how much the diary-Tom had told Ginny about himself. If he was ever honest with her, or if it was all just a deception because he needed her. Harry wondered if Ginny would recognize Tom if she saw him without his Nicodemus glamour. He wasn't sure if Ginny had even _seen_ Tom. Harry had seen the non-corporeal manifestation of Tom's horcrux, but the only reason it had been able to start forming a body was because it was tapping Ginny's magic. Harry didn't know if Ginny had been conscious or aware for any of it.

Harry also didn't know if Tom had ever taken Ginny into one of the diary's memories, like he had with Harry and the memory of him 'catching Hagrid' with his acromantula. It was entirely possible that they had only ever conversed through writing back and forth in the book. He really didn't know. He often wished he could just ask her, but knew that was risky. It was undoubtedly still a tender subject for Ginny, and he would have to come up with some reason why he was suddenly asking her about it, when it had been over three years since the incident and he'd never once brought it up before.

Harry shook his head of those thoughts as the group passed Filch at the gates and began to head down the path towards the village. Hermione and Ginny were discussing Arithmancy. Ginny was having some trouble with something and Hermione was always more than eager to discuss her favorite class. And since she was a year ahead of him and Ginny, Hermione had a bit of advantage on the subject. Rom seemed to be sulking, as he was walking beside Luna, who was staring dreamily off into the distance.

Harry skipped a bit quicker a few steps to catch up with the others and tried to start a mindless conversation with Ron to appease the ginger's bad mood. Discussions turned to some of the twin's latest antics. They'd made a lot of progress in their prank products and had recently started hiring test subjects from amongst their housemates. Anyone desperate for some extra cash in anticipation of the Hogsmeade weekend, could earn themselves a couple galleons by subjecting themselves, willingly, to some of the twin's prank products for testing.

Harry had been quite amused knowing that it were his winnings from the Tri-wizard Tournament that were paying for the self-inflicted suffering of his housemates. After seeing Colin Creevey racing to the loo and staying there for nearly an hour after ingesting some of the Twin's product 'puking pasties' he had decided that giving up his winnings had been totally worth it.

The group finally reached Hogsmeade and headed for the Three Broomsticks where Harry was supposed to meet 'Nick'. The group stepped inside the crowded pub and Harry quickly scanned the tables. His eyes were drawn to the familiar magical energy that he would recognize anywhere, no matter how strictly concealed Tom had it at the moment.

His lips turned up at the sight of his lover, despite the nerves he'd been feeling earlier. Since Harry was keyed into Tom's glamour ring, when he looked upon the elder wizard, he only saw his true appearance, rather than the illusion that his friends and everyone else in the bar saw. Harry's feet quickly took him over towards Tom, who had claimed a corner booth in preparation for Harry and his friend's arrival.

As Harry drew closer, Tom slid out and stood up, sporting a relaxed happy expression. Before Harry even knew what he was doing, he'd slipped into Tom's embrace and the two were kissing. He certainly hadn't planned it, and he'd seen Tom the prior evening, so it wasn't as if he were starved for affection, but it simply felt natural to kiss the man upon greeting.

Harry pulled away when he felt the desire to escalate their activities beginning to stir in the pit of his belly. He had to let out a slow breath to recenter himself, and Tom chuckled as he looked down at Harry with a mixture of amusement and desire in his sparkling eyes. Harry looked up and rolled his eyes at Tom's amusement.

"I missed you," Tom said and Harry smiled while ducking his head shyly for effect.

"Missed you too." He pushed himself forward again and pressed a quick kiss to Tom's lips before stepping back and turning to look at his friends.

Ron was looking away, seemingly rather embarrassed and uncomfortable with what he'd just witnessed. Hermione's eyes were rather wide, but she was smiling. Ginny was grinning widely and giggling. Luna had her head cocked slightly to one side and smiled serenely at him, while Neville was blushing... _a lot_.

"Uh, sorry. Erm, guys – this is Nicodemus Tomaras, or just Nick. Nick, this is Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville." Harry said as he motioned to each of his friends.

"It's a pleasure to finally get to meet Harry's friends, in person," Tom said, giving them his most charming cheshire cat smile. He even went so far as to take each of the girl's hands, one-by-one, bowing over them, and placing a kiss on their knuckles.

As he did this to Hermione, Ron got a bit red-faced and began to scowl at him. The girls all seemed to enjoy it, however. Ginny, and _even Hermione,_ had giggled at the gesture, while Luna had just given him a bright, brilliant, smile.

The group quickly slid into the booth and Harry's friends began their interrogation. Harry had found himself feeling rather mortified or just simply irritated beyond reason, at some of the questions they had asked 'Nick'. Most were relatively harmless, but some were rather personal.

Of course, the vast majority of the answers they got in return were lies, but Tom was good at lying. He weaved his fake persona perfectly, and quickly had all of Harry's friends charmed, save Ron, who had never really stopped scowling at him after he had kissed Hermione's hand.

Harry found it rather amusing, but also realized that he was rather desperately hopeful that he wouldn't be present when Ron finally came to realize that Hermione was still engaged in a long-distant relationship with Viktor Krum. Hermione, who had continued writing letters back and forth with the Bulgarian seeker, all year, had done a commendable job so far of keeping Ron utterly in the dark. But Harry knew that at some point, it was going to blow up in Hermione's face.

He noticed that Tom seemed to be meeting Ginny's eyes a bit more than was normal and felt slight tendrils of magic subtly moving between them. Harry frowned in confusion for a moment as he wondered what was going on. Ginny seemed entirely oblivious to whatever was going on. Harry realized that part of the magic was a subtle compulsion spell to meet Tom's eyes, and from there it was easy to guess what bit of magic Tom was doing. He was reading Ginny's memories.

Harry realized that Tom, no doubt, was just as curious as to what sorts of interactions his diary horcrux had had with this girl. It really only made sense that Tom would make use of this opportunity to try and learn more about what had happened between them. Harry made a mental note to ask Tom what he'd found out, later. Harry had considered using legilimency on Ginny himself, but he'd lent her a book on Occlumency too, and had been hesitant to try it since then. Tom, however, was a master of his craft, and Harry had no doubts that if anyone could slip by unnoticed, it was him.

After the group had downed two rounds of butter beers, and had a plate of biscuits, Ginny gave Hermione a loaded look, to which Hermione silently nodded. Harry caught the interaction out of the corner of his eye and wondered what they were up to. A moment later, it became clear, as Hermione began to make excuses and dragged a reluctant Ron away, while Ginny did the same with a confused-looking Neville and subtly reminding Luna that she had wanted to visit Schrivenshaft's.

They were giving Harry and Nick some 'alone' time. Harry grinned and chuckled at the 'thoughtful effort' his friends were making. They all left, except for Luna, who lingered behind for a moment. As soon as Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville were gone, Luna turned back and looked at Tom with her head cocked slightly to the side again. Then she turned to Harry.

"Harry, were you aware that your friend is using a full-body glamour?" Luna asked in a simple conversational tone.

Harry sputtered slightly and blinked at Luna. Tom's eyes widened and he simply stared at the strange blond girl who, up until that moment, he had found mildly amusing, and little more.

"Wha... excuse me?" Harry asked.

"Your friend," Luna said and pointed at Tom. "He's using a glamour."

Harry's jaw floundered slightly for a moment before he recovered. He suddenly looked serious and pulled Luna down into the booth across from him. He pulled out his wand and discreetly cast a privacy ward around them.

"I actually _am_ aware of that, Luna," Harry said cautiously. "But I have to admit, I'm exceedingly curious as to how _you_ could tell. Even Dumbledore couldn't see through Nick's glamour."

"Oh, that's not very surprising. There are a lot of things that the headmaster doesn't see, as I'm sure you've noticed."

Again, Harry found himself speechless. Tom was also rather bewildered by this strange girl and chose to wait and observe her more before making final judgment. At the moment, it was obvious that she could tell he had a glamour, but it was not yet clear if she could see _through_ it.

"Luna..." Harry began once he'd collected himself again. "I... it's really important that no one realize that Nick is using a glamour. Can you promise me that you won't tell anyone? Not even Ginny."

"That's fine Harry. I didn't intend to tell anyone. It's rather unlikely that anyone would believe me anyway," she replied with a simple smile in that unsettlingly honest way of hers.

"Er, okay. Good, I suppose." Harry replied and, honestly, it was probably true. Most people instantly dismissed everything that came out of Luna's mouth. Suddenly Harry had another thought occur to him. "Luna?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Are there a lot of _other_ things that you can see, besides glamours, that other people don't see?" Harry asked.

Luna tilted her head to the side again, looking thoughtful and humming quietly to herself. "Yes, I suppose there is. I can see the Wrackspurts, for example. And Nargles. No one else will even believe they're there."

"Wait, you can _see_ Wrackspurts?" Tom interjected, suddenly sounding both stunned and excited. Harry's head jerked to the side and he looked at Tom with stunned confusion.

Luna's eyes lit up with excited joy. "Yes, I can," she exclaimed while nodding her head enthusiastically. Clearly thrilled to have finally found another person who knew what Wrackspurts actually were.

Tom openly gaped at her a little for a moment before he spoke again. "Do you have Alder Elf blood in your line?"

She smiled dreamily and nodded her head. "I do."

"Do you have The Memories?" Tom asked eagerly.

Her face shifted to an apologetic smile and she shook her head. "Only a very little bit. After I come of age, I will gain more."

Harry looked back and forth between the two of them with annoyed confusion plastered on his face. "What _are_ you two talking about?"

"Do either of your parents have The Memories?" Tom persisted, still focused intently on Luna and seeming to ignore Harry at the moment.

Again, Luna's expression softened with apology and a tinge of sadness. "No. My mother had them, but she died several years ago."

Tom's eager face fell and he leaned back in his seat with an obvious air of disappointment.

"Are you going to answer me, _now_?" Harry asked, giving Tom a pointed look, that seemed to come off as more of an annoyed pout.

Tom chuckled, which caused Harry's expression to shift into a scowl.

"She has the blood of the High Elves in her," Tom said and Harry continued to scowl while raising a single eyebrow as if to say 'I'd already figured that much out for myself, thanks'. "The elves had hereditary memory," Tom went on to explain. "They passed some of their knowledge down to each successive generation, and even those that were descendents from a marriage with muggles or other wizards and witches, still retained the ability – albeit to a somewhat lesser extent than their pureblooded elf cousins."

Harry's expression shifted to a more serious and thoughtful one. "What sort of knowledge is passed down, exactly?"

Tom's gaze shifted towards Luna and she smiled back. "Quite a lot, really." Luna began in an easy, conversational tone. "The Memories contain most of the elven history. Their customs and rituals. Their magics and their understanding of the world and the creatures in it. Although the amount of knowledge retained grows smaller with each generation. Because of this, much of it has been recorded in my family's books, so that we don't lose all of it."

Tom's eyes suddenly lit back up with renewed interest and hope. "Really? You have the elven histories recorded in books? Can I read them?"

Luna gave Tom a surprisingly piercing look; her eyes suddenly losing their dreamy quality. She stared at him long and hard for several minutes. Tom did not fidget under her strange gaze because Tom _did not fidget_. Harry had to admit he was impressed with how Tom was able to sit there being scrutinized by her for so long without reacting in some way.

Finally, Luna spoke again. "Years ago, my mother told me that someday I would meet a wizard who would want to see our books."

Harry blinked. "Was your mother a Seer or something?"

"She Saw things that others could not see, just as I See things sometimes." Luna replied cryptically.

"Will you let me see them? Your books?" Tom persisted, clearly determined to get his hands on these books. Harry suddenly worried for Luna's health if she were to refuse him.

"Only if you tell me who you really are." Luna replied.

"What makes you think I'm not who I say I am?" Tom replied smoothly.

"You mean other than the fact that you're using a full-body glamour?" Luna asked, rhetorically.

Tom smirked. "Touche."

"I know you are not who you claim to be, because of what my mother told me when I was a girl." Luna said.

"And what, exactly, did your mother tell you?" Tom asked.

"That someday, one of the Lords of magic would need our knowledge, and that it would be my task to give it to him."

Tom's aristocratic eyebrows rose into his forehead and Harry's eyes went wide.

"Is that so?" Tom asked, slowly, taking on a calculating look.

"I must admit, I'm only slightly surprised to find _you_ with Harry, and most of that surprise is merely with the nature of your relationship."

Harry frowned in confusion. "Wait, what? Only _slightly_ surprised?"

"It's not terribly surprising that you would be with the Dark Lord, considering how very Dark your aura became over the course of the last year. So for that, I'm not surprised at all." Luna said simply and shrugged, giving Harry an easy, dreamy smile.

Harry gaped at her like a dying fish.

"You clearly seem to already know who I am. Why do you insist that I tell you?" Tom asked then.

"I do not know, I simply believe."

Tom looked blankly at her for a moment before responding. "Well, your belief is correct." His posture straightened and he took on an air of self-importance. "I am the Dark Lord Voldemort."

"And you love Harry?" Luna asked, clearly unphased by the confirmation of Tom's real identity.

Tom seemed a bit taken aback by being so bluntly asked such a personal question but recovered quickly. He turned his head and looked at Harry and his gaze softened almost instantly with affection that could not truly be faked. "Yes, I do."

Luna smiled widely. "You can read my books."

Tom looked back at her with surprise in his eyes. He had obviously expected more of a struggle than that.

"Only I can remove them from the vault my mother left for me," Luna continued to say. "I can go to Gringotts over the winter holidays and fetch them. I'll give them to Harry and he can give them to you. You may make copies, but I would appreciate it if you would give the originals back."

"That would be... most appreciated." Tom replied, still somewhat taken aback by the odd girl and her unpredictable behavior.

Luna smiled widely again and her expression took on that dreamy quality again. "It was very interesting meeting you, Mr. Voldemort. I'll let you and Harry get back to your date now," she said as she began to slide out of the booth.

Harry almost choked at Luna calling Tom, 'Mr. Voldemort', and even Tom seemed a bit stunned by it. Neither one of them commented on the 'date' remark either.

"Er, yeah..." Harry stumbled over his words for a moment. "You... you'll keep all of this to yourself, of course, yeah?"

"Oh, of course." Luna said with a happy nod of her head.

"Um... good."

"Have fun." Luna said cheerfully before turning and leaving the crowded pub.

Harry and Tom stared after her, both equally stunned.

"Is she always like that?" Tom asked.

Harry chuckled weakly. "Yup." He turned back to face Tom, sitting beside him in the booth. "So what's the deal with these books?"

– –


	23. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary: Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta Pass by tannne

AN: This is going to be it for a while. Sorry it's not exactly a good stopping place. I'll try and post another chapter in week or two just so that I can leave you all with more conclusion or something, but after that, there's going to be a big wait while I write another 200-ish pages. Once they're done, I'll post them in a big batch, just like last time.

It took me exactly** two months to write 200 page**s last time, so you can expect a similar wait again. It may be a bit longer this time since I've got the Holidays to contend with in December, and we're entering crunch mode at work in preparation for a big demo that's due in January.

– –

Chapter 22

It turned out that Tom didn't have any specific exceptions as to what would be contained within the books. He merely saw them as a potential treasure trove of ancient and powerful magical knowledge.

The High Elves had never been much one for sharing their magical knowledge with witches and wizards. They also didn't write much of it down – or they simply took all of their books with them when they left.

Luna's remarks about what her mother had 'Seen' in relation to the Dark Lord 'needing their knowledge' and it being Luna's 'task' to help him, appeared noteworthy, though. The words seemed rather prophetic in nature, and gave both of them pause.

However, it did very little good to dwell on the issue now since they wouldn't be able to get the books until the winter holidays.

–

Harry and Tom had ended up spending several hours in Hogsmeade together before Tom returned to the abbey. Harry went about the rest of his day like any other Saturday spent at Hogwarts and that night after his nightly smoke with Draco, and his prefect rounds, Harry returned to the abbey as well and used the time-turner to go back 24-hours.

It was difficult not to mention anything about the coming day to Tom since Tom hadn't yet lived through the Hogsmeade visit. But Harry held his tongue and never mentioned a thing about Luna to Tom the entire night or next morning. When Tom left the castle to go to Hogsmeade, Harry realized how utterly bizarre his life was, that Tom was currently leaving him alone in the castle in order to go have a date with his other self from twenty-four hours prior.

All of this excessive time-turner use was likely to drive him barmy before this year was up.

Now having several hours to kill and very little to do, Harry set to doing something he'd been meaning to do for about a week now, but had been hesitant enough that he kept talking himself out of it. He still wasn't convinced it was the wisest thing to do, but he knew it needed to happen.

So Harry dug into his bag and pulled out the two-way mirror that Sirius had given him just before leaving Grimmauld Place on the morning of September the 1st. Harry hadn't actually used it yet, and part of him felt bad for that.

He and Sirius had exchanged two letters over the past almost two months, but they had been very simple and short.

Harry sat down cross-legged on his and Tom's king-sized bed and held the mirror in his lap. Finally, he looked into the mirror and called out Sirius' name.

Several minutes passed with no response. Harry was about to just give it up and consider trying again later when the mirror suddenly warmed up a bit and Sirius' wet and disheveled face appeared in the mirror.

"Harry? Harry?" Sirius exclaimed.

"Hey, Sirius. Yes, it's me. Are you alright?"

"Oh yeah. I just got out of the shower. Had no idea how long ago you had tried to activate the mirror. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I er... actually I wanted to warn you about something. Have you got a minute to talk?"

"Warn me?" Sirius echoed as his brows knitted together with worry. Harry could see Sirius shifting around and sitting down with the mirror held in front of him.

"Yes. Um... something _big_ is going to happen on Halloween night." Harry said after giving Sirius a moment to get situated.

"Big?" Sirius asked, looking even more concerned than before.

"Yes. Definitely big. And after it happens, I'm afraid the Ministry might tighten a lot of their security, as well as increase the number of Aurors they've got roaming about. I wanted to make sure you'd be somewhat prepared for that. You'll probably need to lay low for a while."

"You're talking about some sort of Death Eater attack, aren't you?" Sirius asked, gravely.

"Yes."

Sirius sighed heavily and rubbed his hand over his face roughly.

"Sirius?" Harry continued, regaining the older wizard's attention. "It might be a good idea to have an alibi with some of the other Order members or something. I don't know if any of them are doubting the whole 'you're not really a Death Eater' thing, especially considering your refusal to actively join the Order again, but I imagine that there could be a few of them that might suspect you were actually a part of this attack."

Sirius frowned. "I don't exactly associate with a lot of the Order members on any regular basis. If I suddenly showed up on one of their doorsteps, just in time to have an alibi for a Death Eater attack, it might look suspicious."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I was thinking that too. Hey, that Auror, Tonks is your cousin, right?"

"Yeah, she is. She's Andromeda's girl."

"Did you ever... I don't know – spend the holidays with them? Like, maybe you could spend this Halloween with them? You could use some excuse like, you not wanting to be alone on the anniversary of the attack on me and my parents, not to mention that it was also the event, that caused you to go after Pettigrew and end up in Azkaban. You could say you're afraid you might drink yourself into a stupor or something if you're alone. Sounds convincing to me, at least."

Sirius snorted humorlessly. "It's not too far off, actually..."

Harry sighed softly and ran his hair through his hair. "Are you doing alright, Sirius?"

Sirius barked out a sharp laugh, and looked away from the mirror. He was quiet for a moment before sighing and looking back at Harry. "I'm fine, pup. Really. You don't have to worry about me."

Harry nodded with a bit of resignation. "Have you spoken with Remus lately?"

"No. Haven't heard from him since he went back to the lycan pack."

"So are you still at that rented muggle flat?"

"Yup."

"...Okay."

Conversation was stilted and Harry finally let out a slightly frustrated huff.

"Do you think you'll go to Tonks or to Andromeda?"

Sirius sighed heavily and rubbed his hand over his face again. "Yeah... I suppose I'll try for that. Nymphadora may be working that night, but being with her parents would be enough of an alibi for the Order."

"Good. Good."

"So... er, don't you have classes?" Sirius asked after a minute.

"I'm fine, but I suppose I should probably go soon."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Right..."

"Okay, so uhm..."

"Right. I'll call you again sometime?" Harry said, feeling exceedingly uncomfortable.

"Yeah, that's good." Sirius nodded.

"Let me know if things get sticky for you. I've got a place you could stay that the Ministry could never find you at."

"Are you talking about Voldemort's hide-out?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Technically, yes. Voldemort is using it as his base now. But you could stay separate from any Death Eaters."

"Yeah... probably not, Harry."

Harry huffed. "Fine. But keep it in mind."

"Sure, sure."

"Alright. See you later, Sirius."

"Goodbye, pup."

– –

Harry felt Tom apparate back to the castle an hour later. He was now sitting at his desk in his and Tom's shared office. They each had their own desk, and a few bookshelves. The room also had a nice-sized fireplace that could be hooked up to the floo network, but was currently sealed.

Harry closed the book he had been reading and set it on his desk as he waited for his lover to make his way there. A minute later Tom walked through the door and shot Harry an amused smile.

"That friend of yours is quite a character." Tom said as he hung his cloak on a hook near the door.

Harry chuckled. "Luna? Yes. That she is..."

Tom made his way to his own desk and began to sort through some of his papers.

"Hey, Tom?"

"Yes, love?"

"I was meaning to ask you; you used Legilimency on Ginny, didn't you?"

"Yes," Tom replied simply.

"I'm assuming you were looking at her memories from her first year, right? Her interactions with the diary?"

"You assume correctly. I found some rather interesting things, actually."

"Oh? Care to elaborate?"

"It would seem my younger self got her deeply questioning some of her family's beliefs and ideals. Their stance on the war and their unwavering faith in Dumbledore. However, she had mostly shoved all of those doubts and thoughts to the back of her mind after the incident with the basilisk. The thing is that it would seem that _you_ have got her questioning everything all over again. Bringing up old doubts."

"I have?" Harry blinked in slight surprise, but feeling a small sense of accomplishment at receiving confirmation that some of his efforts really were taking hold.

"Yes. It would seem quite a few of the things you've said to your little Gryffindor friends in relationship to the venerable headmaster's trustworthiness has made her start to recall all the doubts and questions she had formed during her first year and she has begun to wonder if, perhaps, _I was right._" Tom ended with a smug grin.

Harry chuckled. "Well, that's convenient for me."

"Yes, although it seems to be building some sort of conflict within her. She seemed rather tormented by the thought that she's beginning to agree with anything my diary told her. The idea of agreeing with anything that had come from the mind of the _Dark Lord_ is rather unsettling to her."

Harry snorted.

"She also is afraid that she is betraying you by having such thoughts. It's quite a mess inside her, actually."

Harry frowned. "I hadn't noticed there was anything wrong with Ginny at all..."

"She seems rather accomplished at masking and hiding her true feelings and her stresses. Oh, there was another fascinating bit of information I gleamed from her mind –"

"What?" Harry asked when Tom just smirked.

"The sorting hat wanted to put her in Slytherin." Tom said with an amused gleam in his eyes."

"What? Really?" Harry asked with a laugh. "A Weasley in Slytherin? Merlin! That would have been hilarious!"

"Yes, quite. She has tried to convince herself that it was solely because she had already been writing in the diary for a month at that point, and I was simply affecting her, but she had doubts buried deep inside. It's one of her greatest insecurities, amusingly enough."

"Yeah... who knows how her family would have reacted if that had happened." Harry mused.

"Quite. From her memory, the moment the hat suggested it, she nearly went into a panic. She begged the hat to put her in Gryffindor instead."

"I don't doubt that at all. Hmm... Well, this is certainly something to think over. Maybe I'll have a heart-to-heart with Ginny. Confide in her what the hat had wanted to do with me."

"You think you can bring her over?" Tom asked skeptically.

Harry shrugged. "Don't know, but I see little harm in continuing to fuel her doubts about the Light."

Tom chuckled and stood up, walking over to Harry and bending down to meet his lips.

"I do so love to see your devious side." Tom said with a smirk as he pulled back.

Harry gave him a wicked grin before reaching up to loop his hands around Tom's neck and pull the elder wizard back down for a much deeper kiss.

– –

Because of how Harry's 'every-day-twice' schedule worked, he would be living through October 31st at Hogwarts first, and then go back twenty-four hours and living it again with Tom and the Death Eaters. He knew there was next to no chance that word of the Azkaban breakout would reach the school on the 31st though. Still, he couldn't help but spend the day of Halloween filled with anxiety and tension.

His friends took it as his normal annual concern and paranoia, since bad things always tended to happen on Halloween. Harry had even pointed this out to Tom as a reason for them _not _to do the breakout on this day, since he seemed to have perpetual bad-luck when this particular holiday was concerned. He thought that even Tom had a history of a few rather bad things occurring on this particular day. Halloween was the night that Tom had lost his body in 1981, and the troll incident back in '91 hadn't exactly worked out well either.

Tom however, was adamant about the date. Samhain was one of the nights that the Dark magic was most powerful and potent, and the Light was at its weakest. He pointed out that Harry's 'luck' had seemed so cursed for this particular date because, at that time, Harry had been working _against_ the Dark, so it was only natural.

Harry had sighed and given in. All he could do was hope everything worked out well.

Halloween fell on a Thursday this year, and Harry went through his normal routine for any regular Thursday. Dinner, however, was a special feast with a fully decked-out Great Hall.

There were carved jack-o-lanterns and thousands of candles floating through the air, high above the tables, and flocks of tiny black bats fluttered through the air.

Harry had noticed in past years that the Slytherins, and some of the other students from old magic families would often scowl at the jack-o-lanterns and he had always wondered why. He was no longer ignorant to the reasons behind their irritation. Jack-o-lanterns were a muggle tradition. Wizards had no history of ever partaking in this particular holiday practice. At least, not until Albus Dumbledore became headmaster.

It was a measure taken to try and make the muggleborn students more 'comfortable', but many of the old families saw it as one more level of insult. All of the old magic traditions that were practiced on Samhain were all but gone from Hogwarts. Only to be replaced with excessive sweets and carved pumpkins.

The previous night at Hogwarts, while talking with Draco, the Malfoy heir had scoffed at the festivities the Headmaster always insisted upon and remarked that next, the students would be all dressing up in ridiculous purchased costumes and begging sweets from their professors all day in classes.

Harry found himself annoyed at the festivities as well. Making the muggleborns comfortable was one thing, but doing so at the sacrifice of their own traditions and culture was unacceptable.

He had to fight with himself through the feast to keep the scowl off his face. Fortunately, Hermione and Ginny seemed to think that Harry's foul mood was entirely based on the reminder of his parents' death, and gave him space.

After the feast, and his prefect duties, Harry escaped through the Honeydukes passage and apparated to the castle. He rarely bothered with the portkey these days since he was finally becoming accustomed to apparition and it made him slightly less dizzy than the portkey since he had more direct control over it himself.

He used Tom's time-turner and made his way back, twenty-four hours in time. It was now Wednesday night and he joined Tom in some last minute planning for the attack that would take place the next night. Late into the night, the pair retired to bed, exhausted and both a little anxious for the following day's important activities.

–

The following day arrived and Harry, Tom, the house-elves and Barty spent the afternoon setting up the courtyard just outside the entry hall for the festivities that would take place before the actual attack.

It was Samhain, and Tom had refused to allow the day pass without the proper traditions being addressed. He also insisted that now that Harry was a Dark wizard, it was important that he learn about their customs and partook in the customs of their people. Harry couldn't argue with that, and was honestly rather interested in the whole event anyway.

That evening at six o'clock the Death Eaters began to arrive en mass and gather in the courtyard. They were _all_ supposed to attend this event, although there were a few exceptions that were made. Snape and Rowle being two very obvious examples since they couldn't leave Hogwarts.

Once the festivities were finished, most of the guests would leave and only those Death Eaters who were to participate in the attack would remain.

In addition to the Death Eaters themselves, those who desired to do so were allowed to bring their spouses. The event wasn't a Death Eater meeting, per se, and as such, most were clothed in fine formal robes, rather than the solid black Death Eater robes, and only a very few – those who were more paranoid than the rest about maintaining the secret of their identity – had chosen to wear their masks.

The large courtyard was framed on three sides by the castle itself and the far end opened up to the walled gardens. It was at the far end that two large bon fires had been erected. They were long straight lines, side-by-side with a path cutting between them. Several feet before them, Voldemort came to stand with Harry by his side. He raised his hand into the air signaling for the attention of the gathered witches and wizards and they instantly began to quiet and focused entirely on him.

Excited whispering and reverent stares could be seen from the spouses that had, prior to this point, not yet seen proof of the Dark Lord's return, with their own eyes. They looked upon him with a mixture of fear and reverence, and the whispering was quickly silenced as he lowered his hand.

"Welcome my fellow Dark witches and wizards. I thank you all for coming this evening to join us in celebrating this important day with me and my faithful followers. Tonight marks the festival of Samhain. Oiche Shamhna. The _Feila na Marbh_ – the Festival of the Dead.

"Today marks the end of the Light's reign during the year and the beginning of the power of the _Dark_! Tonight we burn the sacred flames and we shall pass through them, cleansing ourselves of the taint of the Light and imbuing ourselves with the power of the Darkness! Strengthening our minds, bodies, and our magic and giving us the power to continue the fight for our rights and for the restoration of the power and respect that we deserve!

"We are the _Darkness!_ _We_ hold the true power! The ignorant masses of the wizarding world have laid idle, comfortable in their delusional world of safety while they slowly destroy themselves and our world, and leave us vulnerable to the ever growing threat of the muggles!"

Tom paused and looked out over the large gathered crowd that was enraptured by his speech.

"They would believe us defeated!" he continued. "They think us gone, and that they have won! In the coming year, we shall remind them that we are far from being gone, and it is _they__,_who will lose in the end! We are not weak, and we will not be squashed into obscurity by their foolish ideals and their willingness to throw away everything that makes us witches and wizards for the sake of assimilating the feeble, detestable, culture of muggles!

"I have returned to you now to resume my noble work. To lead us to the victory that we all desire. Tonight marks the beginning of our return to power. But before that, we shall celebrate! For tonight is a great night! A monumental occasion of great significance and it must be observed appropriately. Join me, my fellow Dark wizards and witches, as I celebrate this night, the way it was meant to be celebrated!"

The crowd cheered at this and the Dark Lord surveyed the gathered group with a smug, accomplished grin. He turned to Harry and smiled before turning back to the gathered Death Eaters and their spouses.

"I am the Dark Lord. I possess powers that I earned through great trials that I completed in my youth. Powers that were granted to me by Magic itself. I have led the Dark for many years, and quite a few of you served me faithfully in the last war, and for that, I am _thankful_. Through unfortunate means, my progress was put on hold for a decade due mostly to the actions of my only true nemesis, the Light Lord – Albus Dumbledore. But my time has come again. I would not be defeated by _Death _so easily! We resume our war in secret and someday very soon, the rest of the world will know of my return and that we have stood up to fight for our rights once again!

"Tonight, as is the tradition of our ancestors, we shall all pass through the sacred flames that lay behind me. Many of you shall make this journey with your beloved by your side. This is a night for remembering the dead and showing them honor, but also for appreciating our lives and the lives, that we will make for ourselves in the future. Lives set out before us, still yet to be lived. Lives of those we care about, that we wish to protect. Many of you fight against the established government of our world not for yourselves, but for those that you care for. For you spouses. For your children. It is the future that we fight for. You fight for your life, as well as for the person or persons that you wish to spend that life with.

"This truly is a great night for celebration and for the first step that we shall take to resume our war. It is this night that I have also chosen to make an announcement of my own. For tonight, I will make this journey through the cleansing fire not alone, but with my chosen companion. Tonight I announce to you all, my _Consort._"

Quiet murmurs and hushed whispers filled the gathered crowed and quite a few faces displayed open surprise, or downright _shock_ at the statement. Harry felt his nerves in the base of his stomach, but kept his expression passive.

"Many of you have come to know him as my apprentice. You have known him as Evan Harris. But today, I introduce you to him as my Consort. My equal in all the ways that matter! A tremendously powerful wizard, whose contribution to our cause will expedite our victory, and grow our base of power with tremendous force!

"From this day forth, he shall be known to you, and to the rest of the wizarding world as Lord Raiodamorte! You shall address him with the same level of respect and deference that you would show to me, and one day soon, when this war truly erupts, the wizarding world will tremble at the mere mention of his name, and shall fear to speak it, just as they all fear and would never _dare_ to speak mine!

"I present to you, my chosen consort, and your new Lord!"

The Dark Lord stepped sideways a bit and brought his arm out in a wide sweeping motion towards Harry. Harry stepped forward with an air of power and confidence as he surveyed the crowd. Many looked utterly stunned, but all quickly pushed past their surprise and erupted in applause, knowing that only bad things would happen if they did not.

A mere few minutes later, the ceremonial cleansing ritual began. All lights in the castle died instantly with a flick of the Dark Lord's wand, leaving only the two large bon fires to illuminate the dark courtyard. Quiet, ancient, chanting was begun by the oldest of the group and a long procession was formed. Together, with their arms linked, Tom to the right and Harry to his left, the pair walked first through the narrow path between the two walls of flame.

It was tradition that couples who passed through the flames together would embrace and share a kiss after emerging from the end. The pair finished their journey through the flames and the bright burning wall of fire turned blue from heat and magic. Harry felt the rush of magic coursing through both he and Tom at the same time and felt nearly lightheaded from the intensity of it.

The level of excitement and energy that coursed through him in that moment was powerful enough to overwhelm his nerves and he turned to Tom, seeing past the man's guise as Lord Voldemort. The bald, pale white head with paper-like scaled skin and visible blue veins melted away from Harry's vision, and he could only see the man he loved. The man who had once harbored a small bit of fear, deep inside him, about allowing the revelation of his sexual preference to ever get out to his followers, but who now stood before a group of nearly two hundred witches and wizards and declared Harry to be his.

Harry's arms looped themselves around Voldemort's neck without a moment's hesitation and the two wizards kissed. It wasn't a deep kiss, but the power of the magics around them was like fuel to the fire and Harry found it difficult to part from the other man.

Finally, he pulled away and stared up into the familiar red eyes that never changed, no matter which form his lover was in, and smiled. The Dark Lord smiled back, and Harry nearly laughed at seeing the expression grace the face of his lover's snake-like guise. Harry wasn't sure he'd ever seen Tom smile like that while in this form. He was quite sure that had any of the Death Eaters been close enough to see it clearly, they would have fainted from shock.

The two turned to face back to the fire and the waiting procession on the other side. They each gave a small nod of their heads to the fire, and to indicate the others to follow before turning and walking the path around the large bon fires to stand at the side.

It took an hour for the ritual to be completed and everyone in attendance to have passed through the purification fires. Afterwards, everyone was ushered inside and up to the second floor. The house elves served a feast in the banquet hall and Harry was faced with participating in his first social gathering with Death Eaters that had nothing at all to do with training or planning.

There was alcohol served, but any Death Eaters who were to participate in the attack on the prison later that night were forbidden from partaking in any. Half the hall was filled with tables while the other half was open for mingling and dancing while traditional wizarding ballroom music magically filled the hall.

After eating a wonderful meal, the mingling and dancing began in earnest. Harry and Tom sat at a table, all to themselves on a slightly raised dais at the head of the room. Many of the Death Eaters came to the table to introduce their spouses to the Dark Lord, and to thank him for hosting the festival and banquet. It was during these introductions that Harry found himself referred to as 'My Lord' for the first time. Many of the Death Eaters who approached greeted the pair of them as 'My Lords', but when Harry was specifically, individually referred to with the label, he found he rather liked it. It was strange, but at the same time, filled him with a smug sense of accomplishment and power.

Voldemort gave him a knowing glance as he sensed Harry's emotions over the link and smirked at him.

None of them used his new name, just as none of them would ever dare to say 'Voldemort'. Harry had wondered what exactly the point was to making a name that no one would be allowed to use, but Tom had felt it was important. The name had actually been his idea almost entirely. ' Raiodamorte' was similar to 'Voldemort' in many ways. It was Portuguese, while Tom's chosen moniker was French. Voldemort was an anagram, but it also meant Flight of Death. Harry's was not an anagram, but it did have a significant meaning. 'Lightening Death' – which he thought was a bit obvious, honestly, but Tom had brushed off his concerns.

At one point, while Voldemort was speaking with one of the Death Eaters, Barty came over and gave Harry a pointed look. He let his eyes go from the Dark Lord, back to Harry, and then his eyebrows rose in silent questioning. Harry felt his cheeks heat up a bit and he had to fight against the urge to duck his head sheepishly. He could not appear _bashful_ in front of all of his and Voldemort's followers. Most certainly not, after having just been announced the hour earlier.

Barty seemed to end with another look that said 'we _will_ be talking about this later', and Harry had nodded in silent acknowledgment.

It was nearly 9 o'clock when all of the introductions and the bowing, and the thanks had finally dwindled away. Voldemort stood and Harry looked up at him curiously, unsure what the elder wizard was doing. Voldemort merely offered his hand out, beckoning Harry to follow. He did so with a slight air of reluctance as he sensed a bit of mischievous intent leak over through the bond.

"I seem to recall Barty mentioning that you put on quite an impressive show of dancing last year during the Yule Ball." Voldemort remarked airily as he began to lead Harry away from their table and towards the dance floor.

Harry blinked with dawning shock at what was about to happen.

"You want to dance?" He asked with a tinge of incredulous disbelief.

"Is that a problem?" Voldemort shot back with a smirk.

Harry's eyes darted out to the crowds of gathered witches and wizards before looking back at his lover.

"I just wonder how many of the minions will faint if they see you _dancing._ I think they already got a pretty huge shock just with being faced with the idea of you having a consort."

"They witnessed us kiss and no one passed out. They can certainly survive seeing us dance."

Harry chuckled weakly and shrugged. "Fine. I'm game."

Voldemort snickered quietly under his breath and led Harry out onto the dance floor. The Death Eaters and their spouses cleared the way for them, and the chatter in the hall quieted dramatically as more and more of those gathered realized _who_ was making their way to the ballroom floor.

The next song began to play in the great hall and Voldemort took the lead with a fluid grace. It took Harry a few moments to grow accustomed to being led around the dance floor, since he had learned to be the one doing the leading. But the adjustment came easily to him and he quickly fell into the comfortable rhythm of the music and Voldemort's strong arms. He lost himself in the music and in Voldemort's familiar eyes.

He found himself laughing when his partner actually dipped him, and then pulled him back up and twirled the two of them across the floor. He truly was shocked that the other man was willing to let himself go so freely in front of his followers. Willing to appear so _human_ to them. Tom had always considered appearing 'human' in front of them as showing weakness. As long as he appeared inhuman, he appeared omnipotent. Powerful above anything a mere human wizard could be. But in this moment, it was more important to him that he was with Harry. That his followers know that this young wizard in his arms was important to him.

Harry had never entirely agreed with Tom's concerns about appearing human. While he agreed that coming off as super-human and as something great and tremendous to be feared, reduced the chances that some would try to overthrow or contest his power, Harry also felt that it made him less approachable. To be feared was one thing, and Harry appreciated the very great value in it, but to be _respected_ and admired was also important. Sometimes Harry truly thought that if Tom allowed himself to be seen as more human, that more people would willingly follow him.

He and Tom had discussed it several times and even Harry wasn't entirely sure where he stood on the issue. He figured that it really needed to be some sort of middle ground. There was no perfect solution.

The dance ended, but the pair didn't leave the dance floor. They shifted into the next one without a missed beat and the others in the hall soon resumed their own dances as well. Eyes still tended to linger on the pair of Lords, but people seemed willing to accept the odd event that was happening before them and keep going.

By ten, the festivities were brought to a close and all of those but the ones who were to partake in the attack left the abbey. Voldemort had given some traditional closing word to the guests just before they all departed, and thanked them again for attending. Everyone who remained behind was given time to change and then regathered in the banquet hall that was now cleared of tables thanks to the quick work of the house elves.

Everyone was separated into their individual units to be debriefed one last time by their squad leaders. Finally, everyone was ready and they gathered in front of the Dark Lord and his new young consort, beside him.

"We have been planning tonight's attack for a month. I have great confidence in all of you that this night will be a great success for us!" Voldemort began. "We shall finally recover those of our numbers who have, in their loyalty and service to me, been captured and incarcerated by the enemy. With the power we hold, we shall crush those guarding the prison with ease and gain the freedom of those trapped within the walls of Azkaban! We will likely gain even more to our cause while at it.

"We've covered the plan for weeks and I expect you all to perform to your absolute best. I shall bring down the prison's wards. Lord Raiodamorte shall lead the group that brings down the front gate! Watch for the signal and proceed as planned. Tonight shall be a great night, and when we are done, the Ministry will feel its first sting of defeat of many to come!

"We leave for Azkaban!"

With a wave of his hand, the anti-apparition wards around the banquet hall, and the infirmary were lowered and cracks filled the air as everyone began to disapparate. A moment later, the group of nearly fifty men and women reappeared on the very edge of the shore of Azkaban Island.

– –

Harry stood at the head of the group, just before the warded gates of Azkaban. Voldemort was quite a bit further away, near one of the key ward stones finishing up his work at bringing them down.

He was truly the most highly skilled wardbreaker there, so he was the only one who could do it. He was aided in his efforts by some very useful insider information thanks to their agents in the department of magical law enforcement, and Jeno Vass. Despite the inside info, it was still a difficult task to accomplish. Wards were tricky business, and the wards of Azkaban were some of the oldest and most powerful in magical Britain.

Harry felt the moment the wards were ripped down, and the designated Death Eater warding team instantly threw up their own set of anti-apparition, and anti-floo wards to prevent any of the guards or Aurors from escaping. With a triumphant smirk on his lips, Harry raised his fist into the air, opened his palm and moved it forward. The inner circle 'generals' each gestured to their individual units and the group as a whole moved forward.

A moment later, they heard yelling in the distance and several Aurors appeared from the gatehouse, apparently bewildered by the sudden shift in the prison's wards.

Their eyes widened comically as they saw the large group of black-clad wizards with white masks approaching them. More yelling was heard, and one of the Aurors disappeared back into the gatehouse. Most likely attempting to call for reinforcements.

Guards appeared at the end of the path from the prison and began to make their way down the road towards the Aurors at the gatehouse.

Harry's wand instantly trained on one of the Aurors and a green jet of light shot out from it. It hit the man square in the chest and he fell to the ground in a heap. Harry was almost stunned at how sickeningly easy that had been. The man had been utterly unprepared. Some _A__uror_.

The one who had been standing beside him, did not seem nearly as stupid or eager to die and quickly began shooting off curses of his own at the approaching group of wizards. Battle quickly ensued as the Death Eaters engaged the Aurors and guards. Green lights lit up the air, intermingled with a wide assortment of other colors and the glowing gold of shield charms.

Harry sent a severing curse at the ankle of one of the Aurors who kept conjuring mirrors to block the killing curses. The man yelped at having been caught off guard and stumbled. An orange body bind curse caught him the next moment and he felt to the ground unable to move. Harry walked right over the man and continued past as the Death Eater forces continued to push their opposition into retreat.

The guards were calling out for the Dementors, but no backup seemed to be coming. Finally, a group of the black-clad horrifying beasts emerged from the prison, and hope seemed to gleam in the eyes of the Ministry workers. Harry's smirk grew wider as he saw their hope morph into dawning horror as the Dementors stood aside and allowed one of the Death Eater contingents into the prison, unimpeded.

Their horror only grew exponentially as they saw Harry levitate a couple of the bound Aurors towards the group of Dementors. Offering them down-payment for their services.

–

Harry was leading one of the units through the main body of the ancient wizarding prison towards one of the upper-most floors. There were no Death Eaters held captive here, but some of the wizarding world's most dangerous and magically powerful wizards _were _here. These were wizards who the government feared more than others. Many of them here had earned themselves life sentences.

Harry and his contingent of Death Eaters gathered in the long corridor lined with cell doors, while a few of the Dementors gathered at one end of the hallway and waited there, hungrily. Tom had promised them any prisoners from this ward that refused to join him. Many were powerful and strong-willed. If they refused to join Voldemort's side, the possibility remained that they could become a hindrance in the future. Harry heard the faintest echo of his mother's screaming voice and quickly shook his head, fighting to clear the feelings of despair and the chill of fear that was slowly seeping into his skin.

The Dementors had stayed back as the Death Eaters breached the prison. But standing aside did not negate the waves of crushing despair that radiated from them at all times, and it was quickly affecting some of the Death Eaters.

It had been a while since Harry had cast a Patronus. He had hesitated in casting it in front of the Death Eaters during the training sessions, since his stag Patronus was known among some circles and there was no telling who all knew of it at this point. But, he finally decided that it was more important to get their job done quickly than avoiding questions regarding his Patronus.

He could see that the other Death Eaters around him were having even more trouble with the Dementor's presence than he was so he pointed his wand down the hall at the Dementors gathered there, and brought forth the memory of Tom, standing with him in the courtyard behind the Leaky Cauldron, telling him that he loved him. With a small smile upon his lips, he called out "_Expecto Patronum!"_

Out of his wand shot, not a stag, but a _snake!_ It was an enormous snake. Even larger than Nagini, and even larger than Harry himself was in his Sea Krait form. The snake Patronus landed and slithered across the floor to coil on the ground in front of the Dementors. It posed ready to strike and extended its hood. It was apparently a cobra of some sort. The Dementors recoiled from it, pushing back against the wall.

The cold feeling of despair that had filled the air, quickly vanished and the masked Death Eaters all looked grateful at the reprieve. Harry noted that a few looked rather impressed that he'd managed the spell. Being such a powerful Light spell, not many of them were capable of it. They quickly set to unlocking each of the cell doors and identifying which of the prisoners actually had enough of their minds left intact to listen to their offer.

The ones that passed the first inspection were dragged from their cells and lined up in front of Harry. Everyone of the intruders was in black robes with white Death Eater masks, save for Harry who was wearing his silver half-mask, and it didn't take a genius or even a very sane man, to figure out that something _big_ was going on in the prison.

The eight men and two women who were lined up before him were all staring up at the group of wizards with a mixture of fear, resignation, or _hope_. Harry was almost surprised that anyone who had spent any prolonged period of time in this place had any hope left in them. The bonus of recruiting some people from this part of the prison was that not all of these people had been here all that long. All of the Death Eaters they were rescuing had been here at least a decade. Some of these prisoners had only been here a year or two and hadn't gone quite as mad yet.

He began to pace back and forth before the group earning their undivided attention.

"I am sure I do not need to tell the lot of you who we are." Harry began. "The Dark Lord has returned! Right now, the rest of our forces are busy freeing those of our numbers who have been imprisoned here. The Dark Lord himself is _here_! He _personally_ tore down the wards of Azkaban, single-handed! We have the loyalty of the Dementors! The Aurors and guards of the Ministry that were stationed here were mere child's play for us! I am here, before you, to offer you an opportunity. You have two choices. Your first choice;_ join us._ Become one of the Dark Lord's Death Eaters and aid us in our revolution! Aid us in our war and we shall bring the Ministry down to its knees! We seek to restore the Dark to our proper place in magical society. A position of power and respect! To restore and protect our traditions, and our rights!"

"And if we refuse?" One haggard, yet proud, looking wizard asked.

"Then we leave you here." Harry said simply. "However, with the Ministry no longer in control of the Dementors, they will have free reign to feed to their black heart's content. Anyone left behind today, will likely have their soul devoured within the hour of our departure."

He paused and gave them all a hard cold stare. They all paled as his words fully impacted them.

It did not take long for the group of Azkaban prisoners to agree to take the Dark Lord's mark and join the Death Eaters. Only two refused, and Harry realized that neither one had any sense of Darkness to them. He guessed they likely had Light affinities, so it was best they stayed behind anyway.

Harry signaled his team to head back towards the prison's main staircase. Several of them were now supporting the sickly prisoners, while a few prisoners who had far too much pride for such a thing, despite their weakened state, ambled along on their own.

Harry waited until the group had exited out the door before he called back his Patronus, that had taken up the post of patrolling back and forth along the end of the corridor to hold off the Dementors. He flicked his wand and cast a simple finite to end the spell. As soon as the giant cobra disappeared, the Dementors sprung forward, and came to stop about six feet away from where Harry stood. He pointed his wand to the cell with the two Light wizards who had refused their offer.

"Them first."

He could almost feel the hungry glee of the horrendous Dark creatures as they descended upon the cell. Just as Harry was exiting through the large heavy door, he heard the screams of the two men begin.

– –

On the second floor of Morhda Abbey, on the opposite end of the hallway from the entrance to the Banquet Hall, was an infirmary. It had originally been one of the master bedrooms, so it was a larger room than most. It was now filled with twin-sized cots, and each and every bed was currently occupied by a sickly witch or wizard.

They had three Death Eaters who were trained healers, and one licensed mediwitch. All were in the abbey that night to help tend to the Azkaban escapees. They were also attending to any of the Death Eaters who had sustained injuries during the attack. Fortunately, very few had been hit, and even those wounds weren't that bad. They had been patched up quickly and dismissed after some closing words from Voldemort on how pleased he was with how smoothly the entire mission had gone.

Not a single Auror or guard from Azkaban had survived the attack, so there were no witnesses to report back exactly what had happened, or how. Many were killed during the actual battle. Any Aurors that were captured alive were given to the Dementors as payment for their services.

The ones that had been kissed had then been killed and had their bodies destroyed through magical means, so there was no evidence that of the Dementors role in the attack. Ideally, Tom wanted the Ministry to believe that they still had control over the Dark creatures, and continue to use them in the prison.

That way if any of his followers were captured again at some point in the future, and he ended up having to launch another attack upon the prison, it wouldn't be a problem.

The attack hadn't even started until 10:30pm, which was the time that Harry usually returned to Hogwarts each night. When he re-entered the abbey it was already past one in the morning and he could feel the slight magical vibration in the wards the signified that his other self, from 24-hours in the future, was in the abbey already. Most likely waiting in his and Tom's bedroom. Perhaps, even already asleep, although he doubted as much. He would probably wait up for Tom.

He helped to organize the healers and a couple Death Eaters who were to spend the night, and then switch shifts, to observe the unmarked prisoners who had agreed to join, in exchange for their freedom from the prison. Barty was also going to help relocate some of the Death Eaters into their own rooms as soon as the healers okay'd the move, since the infirmary was _very_ crowded at this point.

Finally, just after 2am, Harry bid Tom goodnight and apparated back to the Hogsmeade tunnel and slipped back into Hogwarts. He used his student time-turner to go back just after 10am. He hung around under his invisibility cloak until 10:30, and then he went and met up with Hermione, as they did every night once they were finished with their rounds. They returned to the common room before parting ways at the stairs to the dorms. Harry collapsed into his bed, exhausted from his extremely long night.

The attack had gone flawlessly and exactly to plan. He had done his fair share of battling, but their forces had quickly overwhelmed the Aurors and guards. Mostly, he realized, he was exhausted from exposure to so many Dementors, all confined in such an isolated space.

As he let himself begin to drift off to sleep, his mind wandered back to his Patronus. How strange that it had changed... He'd never heard of a Patronus suddenly being different, although he admittedly, had never really bothered to read up on Patronuses. He'd learned about them from Lupin directly, and had relied entirely on his professor's instruction without ever bothering to do any research on his own. Stupid, yes, but that was just the sort of student he'd been in his third year.

He hadn't read up on them during the last year or so because the Patronus was a Light spell and he simply hadn't bothered to do much reading on _Light_ magics. He decided to look into it later and see if it meant something. It was probably related to his affinity change or something... But, he would have to be cautious about casting the spell around anyone at Hogwarts from here on out. If Ron, Hermione, or Dumbledore were to see that his Patronus had changed to a giant snake, it would definitely raise some red flags.

Fortunately, he rarely had any cause to cast the spell around school. None of the members of the Dueling and Defense Association were ready for such an advanced spell, and they had more important things to cover in the Dark Arts Association – not to mention teaching that group a Light spell would be counter-productive to their overall goal.

He finally drifted off to sleep wondering what the next morning would bring.

– –

Harry had established a habit of getting up earlier than any of his housemates. Sometimes he would wait in the common room for Hermione – who was often also an early riser – but sometimes he would simply head straight down to the Great Hall and his 'friends' would slowly trickle in as they each got up.

While sitting in the Great Hall, Harry's breakfast was frequently interrupted by people from other houses coming to ask him questions about defense and occasionally other subjects. As long as he got up early enough, he stayed in the great hall for the entire two hours of breakfast He spent most of his time there reading, or answering questions, or chatting easily with a wide variety of students.

Ron seemed to be having the hardest time getting accustomed to Harry's very different, inter-house social endeavors, and more often than not during the last few weeks, he simply sat with Seamus, Dean, Lavender, and Parvati. Harry noticed that, from time to time, Ron would look over at him with a sad, longing expression that would quickly get covered up by a disgruntled scowl or a sigh. Ron was clearly beginning to realize that he and Harry were drifting apart, but had no idea what to do about it. Harry had little interest in going the extra mile to bridge the gap when he had far too many more important things to tackle.

This morning was progressing as had become normal. Harry had gone straight to the Great Hall after getting up and going through his morning bathroom ablutions. Hermione had showed up in the great hall about fifteen minutes after he had. When she arrived, she found Harry sitting there with a couple books closed on the table in front of his plate of eggs, toast, and a thin ham steak, and surrounded by a group of students. During the first hour of breakfast, the great hall tended to remain mostly sparse in population. Since fewer students were present, fewer people cared if people from other houses sat at the wrong tables. When Hermione showed up, Harry was sitting across from a fourth-year Ravenclaw girl, a pair of fifth year Hufflepuffs, a sixth year Ravenclaw and her friend, another sixth year, but from Slytherin, and past them, was Cedric Diggory, Head Boy from Hufflepuff.

Hermione didn't give the sight a second thought because it had actually become quite common – although the group of visitors cycled and seemed different almost every day. The first time a Slytherin had actually sat down, everyone else at the Gryffindor table had stared and looked as if the Bloody Barron had just flown past. They all looked at Harry as if they expected him to send the Slytherin away, but he hadn't. In fact, he'd treated the Slytherin just as he treated any other student coming up to ask him for help. Harry's pointed refusal to react to his housemate's shock had resulted in the group slowly slipping back into their own conversations and meals.

At this moment, Harry seemed to be in the middle of explaining some sort of offensive magical spell theory to those gathered around him, and Cedric was helping. The fourth year, who was probably in over her head, looked the most confused, and was actually scribbling down notes as Harry spoke. The sixth years from Ravenclaw and Slytherin seemed eager to debate some theoretical aspect behind the origin of the spell, and the fifth years were asking Harry if he had any idea how the spell was originally invented in the first place.

Hermione quickly loaded up her plate and leaned in, trying to catch up and quickly finding herself interested in the conversation as well.

When Ron showed up, he grimaced at the odd group, rolled his eyes, and headed straight over the other end of the table with his group of friends that didn't intimidate and frustrate him so much.

As the second and more heavily populated hour of breakfast arrived, Harry's table companions all made their ways over to their own tables to actually eat breakfast. It was at that point that the post owls arrived. Harry's eyes subtly followed the sight of an owl approaching Hermione with a copy of the Daily Prophet in its talons.

Harry leaned back in his seat a bit with one of his books now open in his lap while he lazily ate a piece of bacon, playing oblivious as Hermione paid the owl and unfolded the paper.

Silently, he counted down in his mind from the moment Hermione flattened the paper, to the moment she gasped in shock.

Harry's head jerked up and he feigned concern.

"What is it?" he asked.

Hermione's eyes were glued to the paper, but she quickly pushed the plates and goblets that sat between them aside and slid the paper closer to him.

There, in huge print across the top of the paper read, _'MASS AZKABAN BREAKOUT! More than Thirty Prisoners Missing, 13 Ministry Aurors and Guards Missing, 12 Found Dead!'_

The number of thirty prisoners freed sounded awfully impressive. The reality was that they had only taken 19 prisoners with them. The rest of the 'missing prisoners' were payment to the Dementors for their loyalty and service. Anyone, prisoner or guard, who had received the Dementor's kiss had been then killed and transfigured into rocks and tossed into the ocean, or their bodies had been blasted to dust. They'd left the bodies of any of the Aurors felled by the killing curse, or some other curse, behind to receive a burial.

Harry looked appropriately horrified at what he saw on the paper before him and quickly set to reading the article along with Hermione. At this point, he could hear the terrified mutterings and gasps of numerous other people in the hall.

About two paragraphs into the article, Harry's frown became real. It appeared that the Ministry was pinning the blame as to who was behind the breakout, on Sirius Black. It was suggesting that, since the man had experience with breaking out of Azkaban, he was the most likely candidate for the person who staged this breakout as well. It was fortunate in the regard that there wasn't even a _mention_ of 'You-Know-Who' anywhere in the article, let alone giving weight to any suggestions that he could have returned or have anything to do with the break-out. Still, Harry was annoyed that his godfather was going to be under even more heat because of this. Not that he hadn't suspected it could happen. It was why he'd warned Sirius, after all.

Statements from Fudge and several other authorities in the Ministry assured the public that they were ramping up security and that patrols of Aurors and hit wizards would be stationed at all major wizarding villages and major businesses, and that search teams were already working on tracking down the escapees.

The second page featured photos of every one of the prisoners who were missing from Azkaban, as well as an even larger re-print of Sirius' wanted poster.

The escapees who were known Death Eaters were listed first. They were Antonin Dolohov, Bellatrix Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Mikhail Mulciber, Lenox Cecil, Caius Travers, Marcia Altard, Marcus Bainard, and Leo Rogers. Harry hadn't yet memorized what the names of the eight prisoners from the high security ward he'd acquired the previous night were. He would have to make sure figure out which ones they were and get files started on each of them.

Beneath each of the prisoners' animated photos was a small blurb about what crimes they'd been incarcerated for. Harry's eyes fell upon the Lestranges for a moment before they darted cautiously over to Neville, sitting a bit further down, and across the table from him. To say that the boy looked ill, was putting it mildly. His face seemed to be warring with itself. Unsure whether to look nauseous, or furious. Harry's frown deepened. It seemed unlikely that Harry could keep Neville neutral in this conflict. But then again, Harry was sleeping with the man who killed his parents, so who knew? Clearly anything with possible.

Harry let his eyes travel to the Head Table next. Dumbledore was sitting there and was frowning, deeply. McGonagall, Sprout and Flitwick all looked equally concerned. Snape was keeping his blank mask up with considerable success. Thor was making it look as if he were displeased, and was frowning thoughtfully. Harry's eyes met with his for an instant and the corner of Thor's mouth turned up in a subtle smirk before his mask was restored.

Thor hadn't been at the meeting so he had not yet heard about Harry's status as Consort. Barty _had_ been there, of course, and when the two had briefly talked in the infirmary after the attack, Barty had once again made note to Harry that they would be discussing recent developments in the near future. Harry wasn't sure when the next meeting Thor would be having with the other Death Eaters would be, since he was mostly kept separate to maintain his cover. He knew he was probably going to have to tell the man himself about his change in status, soon. He was anticipating an awkward situation and wasn't looking forward to the conversation at all.

Next Harry let his eyes trail over to the Slytherin table. Most of the older students were doing a commendable job of not reacting at all. The younger ones weren't skilled enough at maintaining their public reactions yet to completely mask their excitement. He knew that one of the sixth years was Marcia Altard's niece, and that Mulciber's son was a seventh year, although he was enrolled under his mother's maiden name.

Harry couldn't help but notice quite a few Gryffindors glaring angrily at the Slytherin table. He sighed. It would never really end. There would always be a divide in their world. Us against them. Old feuds would never really die. But it wasn't his goal to fix that aspect of their society. He wasn't stupid or deluded enough to think he could accomplish such a blissfully stupid, ideological goal. His goal was switching the balance of control for a while – ideally a _long_ while – until things were a bit more even, and taking advantage of their control to try and correct some of the more grievous mistakes while the problem of the muggles' 'End of Days' was addressed.

The Light had been in control for far too long. And they were completely fucking everything up. They didn't even see how badly they'd screwed up. They'd lost the right to keep ruling. It was the Dark's turn now.

Once he and Tom had seized control of the British wizarding government, they could finally begin to tackle some of the larger problems. It was only a matter of time now...

Harry's eyes landed on Draco, who looked up and responded with a raised, questioning eyebrow. Harry gave the blond a wide smirk for the briefest of moments before wiping it away. Draco smirked back and appeared to chuckle quietly before he turned to face Blaise Zabini who was sitting beside him.

"Arrogant, pompous git," Harry heard Ginny mutter from the other side of Hermione. He glanced over at her and saw her gaze trailing back to the Slytherin table, and glaring at Malfoy.

"Hmm?" Harry responded, feigning ignorance.

"Malfoy. He's so smug about this. Look how pleased he looks." she scoffed.

"Isn't Bellatrix Lestrange his aunt?" Harry asked.

"Is she?" Hermione asked, surprised.

Harry nodded his head. "Yeah, she's Narcissa's sister. Narcissa, Bellatrix, and Andromeda Black were all daughters of Cygnus Black. They're Sirius' cousins. Andromeda Black is Tonks' mum. You remember – that Auror with the pink hair?"

Hermione and Ginny's jaws dropped open.

"No way! Tonks is Malfoy's cousin?" Ginny gasped.

Harry chuckled weakly and shrugged.

"But I _like_ Tonks!" Ginny said with a mild whine.

Harry laughed. "And I like Sirius. You can't judge a person by their family. Heck, look at Percy."

Ginny grimaced and sat down, a bit deflated.

"Well, _we_ know that this breakout had nothing to do with.." Hermione began to say but paused and glanced around for a moment before whispering, "_Sirius._" She sighed and folded the paper closed. "Can we assume it's safe to say that this was really orchestrated by V... by V-voldemort?"

Ginny flinched a bit at the name.

Harry sighed and shrugged. "Who knows. But yeah... probably."

"How can people be so blind?" Hermione huffed in frustration. "They're just living in denial! Deluded themselves, thinking that he's gone, when he's not. We could be using this time to prepare, but we're not!"

"I know from Fred and George, when they managed to listen in on some of the Order meetings over the summer, that Dumbledore has been trying to convince the Minister that You-Know-Who is back, but Fudge refuses to believe it." Ginny said. "This just proves how bad off he is. He's so desperate to point the blame at anything besides You-Know-Who that he's saying that one escaped prisoner could break back in, and free thirty others and kill off twenty-five trained Aurors and guards. It's just stupid."

"I wonder how they managed it though," Hermione said in a thoughtful voice. "I mean, what about the Dementors?"

"The Dementors sided with You-Know-Who in the first war." Ginny said with a nod. "I bet they _let_ him in Azkaban."

"That's probably why so many of the Aurors and guards were 'missing'." Harry said, knowing that if he didn't contribute to the conversation at all, it would look odd.

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked, looking confused.

"Anyone that's missing was probably kissed. But they didn't want any evidence left lying around that could incriminate the Dementors for betrayal, so they killed them and destroyed all of those bodies."

Hermione's eyes went wide. "That makes sense," she whispered, looking rather horrified.

"Wait, you don't mean to say that the Ministry is actually going to keep the Dementors in Azkaban?" Ginny exclaimed.

Hermione nodded her head quickly. "They are! It says so, right here," she said as he pointed to one of the paragraphs in the front-page article. Ginny leaned in and quickly re-read it.

"Those idiots!" she growled as she slumped back into her seat. "And the Ministry is being so willfully blind in all of this that they'd probably keep the Dementors around even if another breakout happened five months from now!"

"Even if Dumbledore went to them about it, it probably wouldn't do any good." Hermione said with a defeated groan.

Harry nodded his head, with a mixture of sympathy and outrage on his face.

After a moment's pause, Hermione turned her attention, fully, on Harry. "Hey, Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"I know you said it was all supposed to be secret, but is there anything from those meetings you've had with Dumbledore that is... I don't know... _relevant_ with all of this?""

"Yeah, Harry – can you tell us _anything_ about what he's teaching you? Is it all dueling or defense, or something else?" Ginny asked.

"Oh. Actually, it's nothing like that at all. He's sort of giving me... intelligence, I guess."

"Intelligence?" Hermione echoed.

"About Voldemort. Memories that Dumbledore has collected in his search to understand the man and stuff. Trying to find a weakness, I guess. I'm not really sure."

"But why is he showing _you_ this stuff?" Ginny asked, looking a bit confused.

Harry sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He'd managed to dodge this topic before now, but wasn't sure how much longer he could manage it.

"It's not something I can talk about in the Great Hall. But let me just say that the reasons that Dumbledore has given me, don't entirely convince me. I mean, given my past history with the man, I'm not particularly inclined to believe what he tells me, at face value."

The two girls nodded their heads gravely, and shared a meaningful look for a moment.

Harry looked at his wristwatch, widened his eyes in surprise a bit and quickly began to stuff his books and things into his bag.

"Class is soon, we'd better get going Hermione."

Hermione gasped, noting the time as well and quickly began to pack up her own things. Harry glanced down the table and saw that Ron was engaged in a rather heated talk with Dean, Seamus, Lavender, and Parvati. They all appeared to be rather riled up, undoubtedly about the Azkaban breakout. Harry realized that he was going to have to keep an eye on Ron to make sure he didn't do anything stupid, like try to start a row with some of the Slytherins in the halls or something.

He and Hermione bid Ginny goodbye – she had a free period so didn't have to rush – and made their way down the table to Neville and then to Ron and their other year-mates, reminding them of the time. They also quickly packed up their things. They all had History first period so they all walked together. Ron instantly set onto Harry to get him to back him up. Apparently, Ron had insisted to Seamus and the others that it wasn't Sirius Black, who was behind the breakout, but rather, You-Know-Who, himself. Seamus had insisted that Ron was a lunatic.

Harry had elbowed Ron in the ribs and whispered a harsh reminder that they weren't supposed to do anything that might clue people into the fact that they knew Sirius. If it got out that any of them knew anything about Sirius Black, the Ministry could try and question them about it. Ron's eyes had gone wide with realization and he'd hung his head with embarrassment and a bit of shame. Harry had huffed and simply walked faster to get to Binns' class.

– –


	24. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary: Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta Pass tannne

AN: another chapter for you all. woo.

– –

Chapter 23

At lunch, Harry escaped his friends to go up to his dorm room and make use of his two-way mirror to contact Sirius. He was honestly worried about the man and wanted to make sure he was doing alright.

Harry had put the mirror into his school bag and carried it with him just in case some sort of emergency came up, so once he'd gotten up to his room, he pulled it out, sat in the center of his bed while drawing the hangings closed and spelling a privacy spell around him.

He said Sirius' name into the mirror and waited anxiously for a response. It took a couple minutes but finally Sirius' face appeared in the reflection.

"Hey, Sirius," Harry said with a relieved sigh.

Sirius gave Harry a pointed look. "You _could_ have warned me, you know."

Harry gave the other a sheepish grin and shrugged. "It was probably best you stayed as ignorant of things as possible."

Sirius barked out a humorless laugh.

"So did you visit the Tonks' last night?" Harry asked, anxiously.

Sirius sighed and nodded his head. "I did. Andy and I caught up on old times. Dora wasn't there, because she was on some sort of assignment at the Ministry. Guarding something around the Department of Mysteries or something. Sounded odd to me. Anyway, I spent the evening with Ted and Andy, so I suppose that's a reliable enough alibi."

Harry let out another slightly relieved sigh and nodded his head in approval. "Good. I'm glad that the Order, at least, isn't going to think you had anything to do with this."

"Yeah, but _you_ did." Sirius said with a pointed look. "How much did you know about what was going to happen?"

"Everything," Harry said with an unapologetic shrug.

"Everything? So you knew they were going to murder a bunch of Aurors and guards?"

"Casualties of war." Harry responded easily.

Sirius scoffed and shook his head. "How can you be so cold, Harry?"

"It's a revolution, Sirius, and revolutions don't happen without some bloodshed."

Sirius' response was closer to a bark than a laugh. "A revolution? Where do you get this crap? Voldemort?"

Harry sighed and shook his head. "Whatever, Sirius. Look, I just wanted to make sure you were alright. Are you safe where you're currently hidden? Are there good wards there? The Ministry is trying to peg this break-out on you, so they're seriously upping their attempts to find you."

Sirius grimaced. "I suppose I'm not in the safest of places..."

Harry groaned slightly. "You need to go somewhere safe, Sirius! Things are really unstable right now, and I don't know if even _I_ could do anything to postpone you getting kissed if you got caught right now."

"I'm not going to Grimmauld Place," Sirius said, indignantly.

"If you won't go to Grimmauld Place, what about going to an old Potter property instead?"

Sirius' eyes lit up slightly with interest.

"An old Potter property?" He echoed, curiously.

"Did my dad or grandad ever tell you about a castle in Ireland called Morhda Abbey?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, I do think I remember Charlus mentioning a place by that name... said he grew up there."

"That's right," Harry said, nodding. "It's a huge castle and it's under a mountain of powerful wards. You'd be absolutely safe there and I've got six house elves on staff, so you'd get three meals a day and your laundry done and everything."

Sirius laughed slightly. "Merlin, Harry! When did you do all this? Six house elves? What do you need that for?"

Harry paused and gave Sirius an innocent, but hesitant smile. "Well, the house isn't exactly empty at the moment."

Sirius' expression darkened. "Who is there, Harry?"

"Well... you'd get to see you _dear_ cousin again..."

"Oh hell!"

"For that matter, I think that Narcissa is going over there today to help the mediwitch and the healers, so it'd be a regular family reunion!"

"No! No, no no no!"

"Oh, _come on_, Sirius! You'd be safe there, and you won't have to _stay_. Just go there until some of the heat has died down!"

"I am not staying with a bunch of bloody Death Eaters! Merlin, Harry! I can't believe that you would be using your great-grandfather's castle to house a bunch of stinking murderers!"

"I spoken with the portrait of Charlus's father, Harrison, and he is quite proud of what I've done with the abbey,_ thank-you-very-much_. And he agrees with what I'm doing with housing the Death Eaters there."

Sirius scoffed.

"He was a Slytherin, you know! He went to school with Cygnus Black – er, not your uncle Cygnus, but your great-grandfather Cygnus. Dorea's father."

Sirius blinked and then screwed up his face as if he were trying hard to remember something long forgotten. "You know, I think Charlus might of mentioned that once... So Harrison Potter has a portrait in the abbey?"

"Yeah. So does Charlus, actually. And _loads _of other Potters. Anyway, you could sequester yourself away from all of the Death Eaters if you really wanted to. You wouldn't have to interact with any of them at all. The castle is huge. I suppose if you were _really_ dead set on staying away from the lot of them, you could stay in the west wing of the abbey. Tom and I have that separated off for our use only, so none of the Death Eaters are even allowed in there. But that would mean you'd be living in the same wing as me and the Dark Lord."

Sirius blanched a bit, but then he frowned. "What do you mean _you_? You can't be staying there, you're at Hogwarts! Or are you just talking about the Christmas holidays coming up?"

"No... not exactly. I mean... I'm sort of leading a double life, I guess."

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" Sirius asked hesitantly.

"I'm living every day twice by using a twenty-four hour time-turner every night. I live a day at Hogwarts, then I re-live that same day, at the abbey. So if you went to the abbey right now, I'd be there. Like _right now_. You could go there and find another me, while this version of me is sitting here in Hogwarts."

Sirius' eyes widened. "That's... that's _insane_. Why would you _do_ that?"

Harry laughed. "I've got a lot of stuff to do."

"Wait... Harry, please tell me that you weren't actually part of the attack on Azkaban?"

"Can't tell you that, Sirius."

"Oh, Merlin! Harry, you're _fifteen!_"

"So? Because of all my time-turner use, I'll be sixteen in February, and seventeen by next summer."

Sirius snorted and rolled his eyes. "That doesn't change the fact that _right now _you're fifteen. A fifteen year old shouldn't be doing shit like this! You should be worried about homework, dating and Quidditch, not breaking a bunch of bloody murderers out of prison! You shouldn't be trying to plan a bloody _revolution_."

Harry guffawed. "I may be fifteen, but it's been a long time since I was anything even _resembling _a child! The world forced me to grow up fast, so I did. It was grow up, or die. I grew up. I could have chosen to run away from all this. To just bury my head in the sand and pretend the world outside didn't exist and sit around while Dumbledore manipulated my entire life and set me up to bloody kill myself for his distorted idea of a 'greater good'. My childhood was taken away from me before I was even born. The moment Dumbledore orchestrated a false prophecy and set an avalanche of events in motion with the intent of molding me into his own personal weapon and a martyr. I had no childhood because I was left with abusive, hateful muggles that treated me like shit. _Thi__s _is my taking control of the madness around me! I would rather be in control and growing up too fast, than deluding myself and dying young!"

Sirius flinched back as if slapped. Harry sighed heavily and rubbed his free hand over his face. "But anyway, Sirius. I want you to seriously consider this. Moving into the Abbey I mean," Harry said in a softer voice. "Please, come stay at the Abbey? Just for a little while."

Sirius heaved a heavy sigh. "I'll think about it. I've got some things to take care of first."

"_Please_ be careful, Sirius."

"Which one of us is the adult here?"

"I don't know, you tell me?"

Sirius snorted.

"Can I send you an owl? I'll send you a portkey so you can come to the abbey."

"Didn't you already give me a portkey last spring?"

"Yeah, but it'll just take you to the old manor and that's not being used anymore and it's been completely sealed off. I don't think that portkey would even work anymore."

Sirius nodded. "Yeah, sure. Send an owl, but don't use Hedwig. She's a bit easy to recognize."

"Alright. Anyway, I've got to go. I'm missing lunch and the others are going to wonder what's taking me so long."

"Okay, pup. Take care of yourself."

"You too, Sirius. Be safe."

"Will do."

– –

Harry pushed the heavy wooden door open and squinted his eyes against the harsh cold wind. He huffed slightly as he pulled his cloak tighter around him and hurried along the rampart, hugging the battlement to reduce the exposure to the wind. He quickly came up to where Draco was already sitting and slid down to sit on the cold stone, sighing in relief as he slipped inside Draco's protective wind-blocking and warming charms, and privacy wards.

Draco was eyeing him expectantly, and his expression quickly grew impatient as Harry spent a minute pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his bag and lighting it with his wand. He sucked in a long drag before letting it out slowly with a heaving sigh.

"Merlin, I needed that," Harry said with a relieved grown.

"Mordred's balls, Harry! I'm dying here! I've waited all day to talk about this! Hurry up and spill you bleedin' idiot!" Draco exclaimed suddenly, and Harry's eyes went wide with shock and then considerable amusement.

He snorted, trying to contain his amusement for a moment before the damn broke and he guffawed before breaking out into near-hysterical laughter.

"What... did you... just say?" Harry managed to get out between his uncontrollable chuckles.

"Shut up, you prat! I'm serious! I'm _dying_ to know what happened!" Draco snapped back, his cheeks reddening slightly in mild embarrassment.

"There's not much to say, Draco," Harry said as his chuckles finally subsided. "We broke into Azkaban, killed a bunch of Aurors and guards and let the Dementor's kiss the rest. We got the prisoners we wanted and recruited a few more, then we left."

"Oh, _come on!_ You're skimming over all the good parts!" Draco whined. "I can't believe that you got to go!"

"I can't believe I _told you_ that I got to go_._" Harry grumbled, still slightly annoyed at himself for letting that slip to Draco a few nights prior.

But he had to admit to himself that a big part of him had _wanted_ to slip. He was sort of developing a – dare he say it? – _friendship_ with the blond. It was nice to have someone his own age that he could actually tell things. He had Barty back at the Abbey for the days he was there, but Barty was a figurehead in his 'post-dark' life. He'd known Draco since he started Hogwarts – although, their relationship had been anything but amicable during that time.

He had been more honest with Sirius than most, and it was always a relief to talk to his godfather and not have to hold everything back, but he and Sirius had strongly opposing views on politics and the like, so, while he could be honest with Sirius, he didn't exactly feel like he could truly confide in the man, or get much support or understanding. It was nice being able to be honest and confide certain details about his life in others from time to time, and while he could tell Tom anything and everything, he still longed for that connection he once had with his Gryffindor friends.

It was almost odd to think he was developing that with Draco Malfoy of all people.

"_Merlin_, I wish I could have gone," Draco said in a jealous tone.

Harry snorted. "You just _think_ you wish that. It was pretty awful really."

"Did anyone get hurt? I mean, on _our_ side." Draco asked and Harry was almost surprised to hear a tinge of concern in his voice.

Harry chuckled. "No, not really. A few lesser wounds were received on our end of things, but nothing serious. Obviously, your father was unscathed. No way he'd have gotten injured by any of those pathetic guards. The Ministry was really stupid with their handling of the prison. They assumed that the Dementors were enough and any humans stationed there as guards were inconsequential. The only wizards ever assigned to Azkaban are lackeys, rookies, incompetents, or people who managed to piss off someone higher-up. None of them could duel worth a damn. It was pretty easy, really."

"Then what was so awful about it?"

"Well, the Dementors might be on our side and they gladly stood back while we took the place, but they were still _there_. You _do_ remember our third year, don't you? Not exactly the most pleasant creatures to be around."

"You didn't do anything embarrassing, like faint, did you?" Draco asked with a teasing smirk.

Harry guffawed, looking insulted. "Do I look like I would faint from a bloody Dementor?"

"You did it before," Draco said smugly, goading Harry. "_Twice."_

"That was two and a half _years_ ago. I also managed to get rid of over a hundred of the bloody things with a _single __P__atronus_ at the end of my third year. I'm beyond fainting in the presence of Dementors now, _thank-you-very-much."_

"You're lying. You can cast a Patronus? A hundred Dementors?" Draco exclaimed, in disbelief.

"Yeah, sure. I spent most of my third year learning the bloody spell from Professor Lupin. Dumbledore put him up to it, actually. I think he was hoping that it would turn my affinity Light. It actually did for a bit, but it was forced, and since I'm still young and my core is still developing, and I'd gone a whole summer without performing any magic at all afterwards, _and_ started messing with so much Dark stuff the next year, it wasn't hard to switch it back the other way. Being a parseltongue, descended from the Gaunts, Slytherins and Peverells on my mum's side, and some Blacks as well as all the mixing the Potters have done over the centuries, _as well as _a few other factors, really left my body far more easily inclined towards a Dark affinity anyway."

"Can you still cast it? The Patronus, I mean? Even though your affinity is Dark now?"

"Yeah, sure. Did it last night, actually. I'm sure you can imagine why. You know... a prison full of Dementors is usually good motivation for properly casting an anti-Dementor shield."

"Even though they weren't fighting you?"

"You've been near Dementors," Harry said, "just being _near_ them is enough to make a person feel sick. Depressed, cold, miserable, hopeless... it's awful. And worst of all, it was affecting the other Death Eaters and making their work sloppy. Having a Patronus up blocks all those effects. It doesn't just hold the Dementor back, it also holds back all of the effects of being near them."

Draco nodded his head, looking fascinated. "I want to see it."

"See what?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"Your Patronus," Draco drawled while rolling his eyes at Harry being so slow on the uptake.

Harry blinked. "Oh... Well, I suppose." Harry pulled out his holly wand – his cypress wand was currently stowed in his bag with his glamour ring, sitting beside him – aimed his wand down the rampart and brought forth the memory of dancing with Tom at the Samhain festival. A smile curled his lips and he easily performed the wand movement as he spoke the incantation.

White mist billowed from his wand, quickly taking the form of a large cobra that slithered around the stone floor and earning a gasp from Draco, before turning around and looking at the two teens expectantly. It reared his head up and extended the hood, hissing at the blond and causing him to jump slightly – to which Harry snickered – before the Patronus dissipated into a cloud of misty vapor and completely disappeared.

"Bloody hell! You can even perform advanced _Light_ spells well! Damn it, Harry. I really do hate you." Draco said with a mixture of awe, jealousy, and annoyance in his voice.

Harry burst out laughing. "Thanks," he said. "Although, that's really the only _advanced_ Light spell I know, so I wouldn't exactly say that sets any precedence."

"Yeah, whatever." Draco said, rolling his eyes. "So, you said you used a time-turner so that you could be at the Hogwarts Halloween feast at the same time as going on this Azkaban thing – but how did you get to there? To the Dark Lord's castle – or _your _castle... whatever. And to Azkaban? You're not marked, right?"

"No, I'm not marked. That would be too risky." Harry paused and pulled up the left sleeve of his robes, exposing his unmarred forearm for Draco to see, but also revealing the wide leather cuff still strapped to his bicep. "I do have this, though," Harry said, pointing to the cuff. "It's a portkey that will take me directly to the Dark Lord. It also gets warm if he wants to summon me."

"Brilliant," Draco whispered as he looked at it with awe.

"But I didn't actually use it – I usually don't need to anymore, since I can just apparate there."

"But you're underage! How can you apparate and not get caught?"

"My Trace is gone. The Dark Lord removed it last spring." Harry said with a smug grin.

"It can be removed?"

"Yeah, it was a pretty easy ritual, actually. I can probably get the details for it from the Dark Lord if you'd like. It's why I was able to practice magic all summer long without ever getting caught."

"I figured you were just behind really good wards."

"That too, but it's still better to be safe than sorry."

Draco smirked and rolled his eyes. "Well, the wards at Malfoy Manor are capable of preventing the Ministry's Trace from detecting when I perform magic, but it _would_ be nice to be able to use my magic where ever I went..." Draco drawled.

Harry chuckled. "I'll see about getting you a copy of the ritual."

Draco smirked at Harry and gave him a curt nod.

The two lapsed into silence for a few minutes as they resumed smoking. "I'm curious, Harry..." Draco began slowly and Harry turned his attention to the blond. "Did you see the prisoners – the Death Eaters, rescued from the prison, I mean. Were any of them... sane?"

"They were pretty out of it, and I didn't have a lot of direct interactions with any of them. Mostly I was with the team that went and acquired a few new recruits from one of the other wings."

"Oh," Draco said, with a nod and a far off look in his eyes.

"You want me to check on your aunt and uncles? I'm going back tonight."

Draco's head turned and he looked at Harry with wide eyes. "You are? Really?"

"Yeah I..." Harry paused and twisted his face a little before mentally shrugging. Oddly enough? He sort of trusted Draco. And he knew that the only person the blond might tell this was his father and Harry wasn't really worried if Lucius found out. Draco would be careful. He wasn't stupid. And as an added bonus, Draco was already quite accomplished with Occlumency. "Honestly? I go every night."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. I've got access to a twenty-four hour time-turner and have used it to re-live every day since September first. I live a day here at Hogwarts, then go back twenty-four hours and live the day all over again, but with the Dark Lord."

"Bloody hell! That's ludicrous! Surly you're not so important to his plans that he wants you around that much?"

Harry laughed and shrugged.

"Doesn't that get confusing?" Draco asked.

Harry barked a laugh. "Yes. Yes it does. But I've gotten used to it. Been doing it four months now, so I'd better be used to it."

"Four months? You said Septe... oh. So instead of two months since term started, it's been four for you? Circe, that would be maddening! How can you stand it?"

"It's really not that hard. Gives me lots of extra time to get everything done – of course I've got loads more going on than most people, so I need it."

"I imagine. So you're still going to all the Death Eater meetings? And you do it all under a glamour?"

"Right."

"And my father and the others still have no idea that you're there?" Draco asked rhetorically before snickering quietly and shaking his head. "Merlin, if they realized that they were fighting side-by-side with Harry-bloody-Potter."

Harry chuckled. "I _know_."

They were quiet again for a moment before Harry turned back to Draco. "So... your aunt?"

"Right... yes, I think I'd like to know."

"You're mum is supposed to be there in the morning, actually. Lucius said that she'd be coming to help the mediwitch and healers with looking after the escapees."

Draco coughed a bit on his cigarette smoke. "Is your secret alter-ego on a first-name basis with my father?" He asked with a mixture of incredulity and amusement.

Harry grinned. "Maybe."

"What name does Father know you by?" Draco asked with a curious sparkle to his eyes.

Harry laughed. "No way. If I told you and you told him, he'd likely have a bloody heart attack."

"Oh, come on, Harry!" Draco whined, and Harry found that entirely amusing.

Harry continued to chuckle and shook his head. "No. Maybe I'll tell you further down the line, but not right now."

Draco rolled his eyes, huffed, and took an indignant drag from his cigarette. Harry just chuckled more.

"So, have you ever met your aunt?" Harry asked.

"When I was a baby, I'm sure," Draco sneered, rolling his eyes. "I was only about a year and a half old when she got put in Azkaban."

"Right, good point. What about your other aunt?"

"Other Aunt?"

"Yeah, Andromeda. The one that married a muggleborn."

Draco sneered again, only with far more disgust than the playful sneers of earlier.

"Oh, _her_."

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes. "Merlin, Draco, don't be such a ponce."

"What did you call me?"

"A _ponce_. Honestly, you'd really hate your own aunt, just because she married a muggleborn?"

"He's nothing but a poor, filthy mudblood." Draco said, sticking his nose into the air, snootily.

Harry snorted. "Have you read any of those articles about muggleborn in the Prophet lately? Your father was even quoted in that story the other week. What was it called? '_The Annihilation of the Muggleborn Myth,' _I believe."

Draco frowned, "Yes, I read it. It's just stupid propaganda. Rhetoric for the ignorant masses."

"Actually, it's _true. _And if we can get all of the muggleborns back in the magic world, they'll stop breeding with muggles. It's the muggles that we need to stay the hell away from, not the so-called 'muggleborn'. They're still magical. They're still _us._"

"Do you spew this tripe in front of the Dark Lord?"

"He 'spews' it, in front of _me_, actually. He's the one I first heard about all the creature blood origin stuff, from."

"If it's what the Dark Lord believes, how come I'd never heard anything like that before, then?"

"In the early days it was easier for him to get followers and respect by sticking with the dogma all the old Dark families of Britain already followed. It was Grindlewald's line during the second muggle world war, when the German wizard was allied with Hitler. The Dark Lord was using it as well only to gain the loyalty of everyone who followed Grindlewald up until he got defeated. But now he's already got respect of the Dark wizards. Plus, everyone sees that he was powerful enough to not _die_, or at least, not _stay dead_, so there's sort of that shock and awe thing added to it. He's not wasting so much energy trying to form his initial base. He's _got_ his base. What he's got to focus on now is winning the actual war with as few complications as possible.

"The fact of the matter is that the neutral wizards won't easily follow someone they think is a psychotic murdering bastard. If he can win over the neutrals on some issues, it'll mean less resistance for him. Neutrals are mostly halfbloods, or purebloods of lesser families with no political standing. Or they're _Muggleborn._ They usually don't give a damn about how many generations back they can claim 'pure' magical blood. But they _can_ still appreciate the concern over losing our magic by thinning our blood further, and losing our traditions and sacrificing our culture for the sake of 'progress'. Or giving up the old ways in order to make the muggleborn more comfortable, or by having our ideals washed away by people who want to modernize to keep up with the muggles and their messed up society.

"The less exposure we have to the muggles the better. They're doomed anyway. But we really can't exile all our muggleborns because if we did that, then the muggles might stumble across them and start to figure out that _we're here too _and take us all down with them_._ We can't deal with the muggles yet because we're too divided and there're just too damn many of them. Best way to avoid the problem is to bring the muggleborn back into our society and cut ourselves off from the muggles, completely."

"Why bother bringing them into our society?" Draco said with a sneer. "We should just kill the lot of them off. They're just filthy blood anyway. Even if they are descended from squibs of pureblood families, they've still bred with muggles. Too much muggle blood in them. They'd just contaminate our lines with their filth."

"We can't kill them all off because of that point I made earlier about wanting to woo the neutrals." Harry said, rolling his eyes. "If we come off as a bunch of psychotic murdering crazies out for genocide, no one outside the old Dark families will follow us. Besides, I see little need to kill the mudbloods off. They can still be useful members of society and some of them are still magically powerful. The ones that have too much muggle blood and are too magically weak can just be sterilized. They can adopt any magical orphans out there if they want kids."

"Sterilized? Well, that's an idea, I suppose. But I don't see how any of them could be 'magically powerful' at all since they're descended from _squibs_ and _muggles_."

"Yeah, but you've _seen_ for yourself that some muggleborns can still be magically powerful. Look at Hermione? She may not be a magical powerhouse, but she's brilliant and you'd be hard pressed to find a spell she can't perform. I'm actually in the works of figuring out her magical ancestry. I'd bet you ten galleons she's descended from an old Dark family."

Draco scoffed. "Granger, from a Dark family? How ludicrous. I'll take that bet. What are you doing to figure out her ancestry?"

Harry chuckled. "She and I have brewed a potion and ordered a blank tapestry. We're going to perform the ritual in a couple weeks when it arrives to generate the actual family tree on it. So I guess we'll know for sure then."

"Hmph," Draco coughed out, rolling his eyes.

"But anyway, back to the argument of muggleborns being inherently weaker. Studies prove that one or two generations of lesser blood can sometimes bring new life to an old bloodline. Revitalize it. Add a little genetic diversity into the soup. It's when you start getting three and four generations of breeding with muggles that you start to get problems. Weak magic, and more squibs."

"The Dark Lord really buys into the tripe?" Draco asked with a disbelieving sneer.

Harry snickered and then bit his lip. "Promise not to tell anyone what I'm about to tell you?"

"Harry, you know I won't tell _anyone_ any of the stuff you tell me. I thought we'd already covered this?"

"Yeah, I know, but this one is kind of... well, the Dark Lord doesn't really like this getting around."

Draco's eyes lit up with increased curiosity. "Yes, yes, I promise. What is it?" he asked, impatiently.

"His father was a muggle."

Draco blinked. "Who's father?"

"The Dark Lord."

Draco's eyes widened and his face slacked, comically. Harry smirked and snickered quietly.

"You're lying."

Harry laughed and shook his head. "Honest truth. Swear it."

"Bullocks!"

"No, I really do swear it's the truth! And if you ever wanted proof that a single introduction of some fresh blood can revitalize an old, dying pureblood line, and result in a seriously powerful wizard, he's that proof. The last line of descendants from Salazar Slytherin was a pathetic bunch. It's _really_ sad how they'd degenerated through the centuries. I think I mentioned to you, they were called the Gaunts? My mum descended from a squib from their line. I saw some pensieve memories of the last of them and they were a nasty sight. But this one, rich, handsome muggle caught the eye of the last Gaunt witch. She snatched him up with a love potion, and bam! You've got the most powerful, brilliant, wizard to come along in hundreds of years. Fortunately, he inherited his muggle father's looks, because the Gaunts were a right awful sight to behold. Far too much inbreeding in that family. They did awful things to themselves in the idiotic effort to remain _pure_."

"You're really serious?"

"Honest truth."

"Merlin..." Draco breathed in shock.

"Not a word to anyone!"

"Of course not!" Draco shot back, defensively. "No one would ever believe me, anyway."

Harry chuckled.

Draco screwed up his face in thought for a moment and Harry couldn't help but smile, when he thought about how comfortable Draco had become around him, if he was actually allowing his emotions to display on his face without feeling the need to completely mask them.

"What did you mean by 'it's a good thing he took after his father's looks'? I mean... well, he doesn't exactly look... _human_."

"Oh, that." Harry paused, debating internally for a moment. He'd already told Draco that Tom's father was a muggle; it seemed minor to reveal the other thing... "That's actually a serpentine transformation," Harry finally answered.

"What?"

"Well, I told you towards the end of summer that my ability to turn into a snake is a parselmagic spell – a serpentine transformation. There are lots of different forms that a parselmage can learn, and the way the Dark Lord looks in front of everyone else? That's one of them. But he can turn it off and look human whenever he wants. When he's human, he's really incredibly handsome."

"Really? Wow..." Draco breathed and Harry could see the awe in the blond's eyes.

Quiet lapsed again for a moment and Harry could tell Draco wanted to ask another question.

"If his father was a muggle, why does he hate them so much?" Draco finally asked. "I mean... how could he end up leading the wizards in the last war on a crusade to wipe them all out?"

"Well, he was orphaned. His stupid muggle father abandoned his mum after she let the love potion wear off because she deluded herself into believing he would love her back, or stay for the baby. She died just after childbirth, so he was raised an orphan."

"How do you _know_ all this?" Draco asked incredulously.

"He told me. Are you forgetting again how he and I are related?"

"Yeah, but even if you're related, I have a hard time believing that he'd just _tell_ you things like this. It's awfully personal, and not exactly the sort of things he'd want to get out."

"True. True." Harry conceded. "We're... close. But anyway, he basically grew up _hating_ muggles. He was raised in a muggle orphanage and was treated terribly by them. So he certainly had plenty of hate for them, all on his own. Not really enough for genocide, but muggles were the easiest scapegoat to use, and easiest rhetoric to form in order to gather loyal and enthusiastic followers back after Grindlewald fell, and he was recruiting his own army. The Dark sect was already deeply resentful, and fearful, of muggles for the damage the Great Wars had brought to them, and the muggleborn for the extra risk of exposure they brought to our doorsteps, so it was what he used to gain support. He didn't even have to really _believe_ it all himself, he just needed followers and that was how he got them."

"And now that's changed?"

"Like I said, he's already a name. Everyone knows how powerful and dangerous he is. Even after he's been gone more than a decade, people are still afraid to say his name! He doesn't need to build a following from the ground up. And even the purebloods aren't as resentful of the muggles at this point as they are resentful of the Light. The Light party in control of the government is the one bending over backwards to placate the muggleborns and make them feel welcome and all that rubbish. Spineless wizards who are scared shitless of anything even remotely Dark so they outlaw everything. The old families blame the muggles and muggleborn for it, but even more so, the Light wizards in control who enacted the laws. They're the enemy right now, and even the Neutrals can see that the Light power base is going overboard on some things, or not doing enough with other things. Win over the Neutrals and we've got this thing in the bag."

"And the Death Eaters are okay with this switch in goals? Not attacking muggles anymore? They're okay with that?" Draco asked.

"Sure there are some that aren't too happy, but they're more afraid of the Dark Lord than they are angry over the switch in targets. And most of them can see the logic in the switch too. It's not like the Dark Lord has totally forgotten about the muggle problem. He's still going to address that, but not until after we've got control over Britain."

"I can't believe that he'd let you in on all his plans."

Harry just shrugged.

They chatted for a little bit longer before it was time for them to go on their Prefect rounds, when they parted ways.

– –


	25. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary: Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

AN: this doesn't mean that I have a nice big batch of chapters ready to post. Sorry. In fact, I've been rather blocked on this story, and I do apologize for that. I think I'm going to try to refocus on it again in a week or two, but I figured I'd give you what I've got at this point.

Added note – this chapter has not been through a beta pass yet... I haven't really even done much of a proof-reading pass either, so there's probably more typos than usual.

– –

Chapter 24

Harry spent a couple hours in his and Tom's bedroom reading while he waited for his past self and his lover to come back from Azkaban with the Death Eaters. He felt the wards alert him when everyone began returning to the abbey, and sat reading for another hour after that waiting until he could tell that his other self had left the abbey. By that time, Harry's eyes were drooping and he was fighting the need to sleep, but was determined to stay up until Tom went to bed.

He left his and Tom's room, slipping his glamour ring on as he walked, and made his way through the west wing to the first floor, through the entry hall, into the east wing, and up to the infirmary where he knew Tom was. He had with him a self-inking quill and one of his bound notebooks so he could make note of any of the things he would need to be addressing the next day in regards to the new still-unmarked escapee recruits.

He strode into the infirmary and saw Tom, or rather, _Voldemort_, standing off to the side by Barty and the two Death Eaters who were assigned to guard the unmarked escapees for the night. Voldemort's head rose and as their eyes met he smirked.

"Welcome back, love," Voldemort said with a vicious smirk and Harry grinned widely. A small thrill shot through him at being called that in front of any of the Death Eaters. Part of him still had trouble believing that the Death Eaters now knew the nature of he and Tom's relationship. Even though they still didn't realize _who_ exactly Harry really was, this was still one step closer to really being _out_.

Harry couldn't help but notice the wide-eyed double-take one of the guard Death Eaters did in response to Voldemort's greeting to 'Evan'. The other hid his reaction better, but his brows still rose into his hairline a bit and his eyes danced between Harry and the Dark Lord with something akin to shock. They'd been at the festival, seen the two kiss, and dance later in the banquet hall, but it was no doubt still difficult to truly grasp the concept of their Lord being in a romantic relationship with anyone. He didn't exactly come off as a loving person when with his Death Eaters.

One of the very few people who _did_ know who Harry really was, was presently giving him another pointed _look_. Barty was standing beside the two guard Death Eaters and looking at Harry with an air of curious amusement. Harry dodged his gaze and refocused on the Dark Lord.

"How were the... _reactions?" _Voldemort asked with a smirk, Harry knew he was referring to how the the Prophet and the populace of Hogwarts had reacted the morning the attack had been announced – something which Harry had experienced even though it hadn't actually happened yet – _stupid, confusing, time travel.._.

Harry snickered. "Amusing."

"I'll bet. You'll tell me more later."

"Of course."

Harry continued striding forward and looked around the packed room, focusing on the side of the room that held only the unmarked escapees. "Do we know any of their names yet?"

Barty stepped forward and pointed at the first cot. "That one is Louie de la Pole. Next is Terance Deverux, then Eli Ferrers, Silas Fairfax, Tate Dudley, we don't know her name yet, she passed out the second we put her on a bed and the healer doesn't want to risk waking her yet. Next is Elijah Herbert, Silvia Fiennes, and Jackson Montague."

Harry was writing in his notebook while Barty spoke and nodded his head when he was done. "Good. I'll go through the prisoner files we got from Vass on the high security ward and pick out the ones we got." He looked over at Voldemort. "Are we going to mark them in the morning?"

"Healer Bohun suggests waiting at least twenty-four hours so that some of the nutrient and healing potions can take effect and they're more stabilized." Voldemort said with an air of disinterest. "I require full consciousness and absolute willingness to mark my followers, so I will wait."

Harry glanced over at Barty with a silent nod for him to continue his report. "They're better off than _our_ group," Barty said, "since most of them have only been in there a couple years, but they're still pretty bad off. That place... it's not easy to get over in just a single night."

Harry nodded his head, seeing the flash of pain cross through the wizard's eyes.

"How are the Lestranges?" Harry asked, knowing that Barty had been close to all of them, and also asking on Draco's behalf.

Barty grimaced. "We'll have a better idea in a day or two. The Healer has put all of our people into a healing coma. They'll be out for a couple days."

Harry nodded his head and made a few more notes in his book. He turned and looked at Voldemort and could tell his partner was a bit weary. Not that anyone else would be able to tell; the Dark Lord hid it well. But Harry knew the elder wizard was probably exhausted. Taking down those wards had not been a cakewalk, despite how easy Voldemort made it look.

"Is there anything else we need to attend to tonight?" He asked Voldemort. The Dark Lord let out a barely perceptible sigh.

"I have two things I need to address, but it won't take long. Meet me in our chambers." Voldemort said to Harry before turning to the Healer who had just come in from the storage closet, said a few final instructions before turning and leaving.

Harry sighed and was about to leave as well when he felt Barty's hand lightly grasp his upper arm. He turned and looked at Barty with a tired expression. "I'm pretty tired, Barty. We'll talk in the morning, yeah?"

Barty chuckled quietly. "You bet your arse, we'll talk," he said quietly under his breath so that no one else in the room would hear. "I cannot believe you didn't tell me!"

Harry turned back and smirked, unapologetically.

"Does Thor know?" Barty asked.

Harry's expression turned sheepish at that point and he shook his head. "No. He doesn't have a clue. Since he wasn't here for Samhain, he doesn't even know about the whole consort thing yet. Neither does Severus."

"Merlin, I wish I could be there when you tell him... _either_ of them," Barty whispered, snickering. Harry grimaced.

"I'm not exactly looking forward to it. How do you think Thor will take it?"

"Hell if I know. He's a hard guy to predict. I'm mostly wishing I could watch _you_ as you tell him. It's so rare I get to see you squirm."

Harry sneered playfully at Barty, causing the man to guffaw slightly and drawing semi-stunned looks from the two Death Eaters on guard duty. Harry rolled his eyes and pulled Barty further away from the others in the room.

Barty was still snickering.

"What's so funny?"

"That sneer just reminded me of Malfoy," Barty said, still chuckling.

"Lucius?" Harry asked.

Barty nodded.

"I guess it makes sense... I have been spending a bit too much time in Draco's company."

"Ah, yes, your forays into friendship with the mini-Malfoy."

"It's better than spending time with any of the bloody Gryffindors. They're driving me batty."

"Yes, _I know_. You complain about them _daily._ I can only imagine. Damn glad I wasn't sorted into that house."

Harry snorted. "You? In Gryffindor. Merlin, I can't even imagine that. Although, honestly, I can see you getting on well enough with the Weasley twins."

Barty scoffed. "Those two menaces? They drove me up the wall in class."

Harry chuckled. "Sometimes I forget that you had to teach them."

"I sure as hell won't ever forget." Barty said with a joking grimace. "They kept trying to test the limits of Moody's magical eye."

Harry laughed, drawing the attention of the two guards and the healer, who all seemed stunned by it and quickly diverted their eyes when Harry looked over at them and gave them pointed glares.

Barty snorted. "You're a _Lord_ now. Can't be seen joking around by the minions, I suppose?" Barty teased.

"Pfft. Lord or no, I'm not changing my actions that much around you or Thor. Besides, I like teasing some of you... playing with Severus is always amusing. And in any case, unlike Tom, I don't have any issues with being seen as _human_." Harry said quietly, rolling his eyes.

"It's _Tom_ now, is it?" Barty said in a quiet, but teasing voice as he nudged Harry in the ribs with his elbow. "He lets you call him by his old name? I thought he never let _anyone_ use it."

Harry mentally scolded himself for the slip, but also found himself wondering if Barty had already known that the Dark Lord's name was Tom. Harry chuckled, as the perfect response to Barty's teasing came to mind. "Of course I call him by his name. Do you think I call out '_Voldemort!' _when we're in bed?"

Barty blanched and Harry laughed at his reaction.

"You two are really...?"

"Yes. _Really._"

Barty grimaced again and Harry rolled his eyes. "You know he doesn't always look like that. I mean, _you saw_ what he really looks like. Back when he was resurrected."

"Ah, I had wondered if he could go back. Ever since that first meeting where I brought Sev to the manor, I've only ever seen him with his old face."

"Of course he can look however he wants, but his human face is still his real face. He can switch between his real face and the serpentine one at will. It's like a switch for him."

"Well that's a relief, for you. And now that I think about it, he really was quite a looker. Our Lord was truly a handsome man in his youth."

"He still is. He just uses the snake face to instill fear and respect. He's got this idea in his head that if the Death Eaters saw him as human they wouldn't follow him. Which is ridiculous because he's amazing and powerful and brilliant, and none of the changes just because he looks different." Harry rolled his eyes slightly. "He almost never uses his Voldemort guise when we're in the western wing, since no one but us and the house elves can get in there."

Barty nodded his head in understanding, but looked a bit awestruck.

"So how long has this been going on?" Barty asked finally as the pair of them exited the infirmary.

"I thought we were going to talk in the morning?" Harry asked with a tired, and slightly annoyed look.

"This is a big castle. I'll walk you to the entrance hall."

Harry chuckled and shook his head before finally sighing in defeat. "Since spring. We'd been sort of... getting closer, even before I moved in to his manor over the summer, but I suppose it was during the summer when things got really serious."

"You're _really_ sleeping with him?" Barty whispered with a mixture of awe and incredulity.

Harry paused in his stride and looked at Barty. He rose a single eyebrow at the older wizard. "Bit of a personal question, don't you think? Besides I think I made that fairly clear a moment ago."

Barty just smirked and gave him an unapologetic shrug. Harry knew he would never be this brazen if Voldemort were actually around, but he and Barty had developed a comfortable relationship over the months, and had only grown closer during the last month while Barty was living in the abbey. And honestly, Harry was glad that Barty wasn't suddenly treating him differently, given his new position as 'Lord' and Consort.

Harry rolled his eyes, shook his head and resumed his strides down the hall, turning into the small corridor that led to the staircase. Barty jogged to catch up, chuckling quietly under his breath.

"_So?_" Barty asked as the two began to descend the spiral stairs.

Harry looked at him curiously. "_So_, what?"

"What's it like to shag the most powerful wizard alive?" Barty asked with a mixture of reverence, and humor.

Harry coughed out a laugh. "Did you seriously just ask me that?"

"Yes, I did, and I want an answer."

"Well, you're not getting it!"

"Oh, _come on_, Harry!"

"_Barty!_ Watch what you call me, while in the bloody castle!" Harry hissed as his eyes darted up and down the stairs, and he quickly reached out with his magic to make sure no one was around.

"Bullocks! Sorry, bad slip there."

"No, kidding!" Harry growled. "It's not just us and Wormtail in the abbey anymore. There's going to be a whole mess of Death Eaters living here after this, so no more 'Harry'. Got it?"

Barty ducked his head, sheepishly, honestly feeling a bit stupid for the slip. Fortunately, most all of the Death Eaters from the raid had gone home already, and all of those rescued from Azkaban were asleep or in a magical coma. The two resumed their journey down the stairs in silence for a moment.

"I apologize, my Lord," Barty said, and Harry found himself grimacing at the new monicker for the first time. It was one thing to have all of the Death Eaters calling him that, but it was weird for Barty to do it.

"You don't have to call me that either – well, not unless we're in a meeting, obviously. Evan is fine."

Barty smiled slightly and perked up a bit as the two continued to walk down the winding staircase.

"You're really not going to tell me anything about your sex life?" Barty asked with a tinge of mock hurt and disappointment in his voice. Harry turned around and glared at the now grinning Barty Crouch, through narrowed eyes.

"I don't kiss and tell," Harry settled for as he turned away from that damn playful smirk. Barty was weird like that sometimes. Harry sometimes wondered if the guy were bi-polar. He could be perfectly serious one minute and then turn into a playful, teasing, git the next. It really was a considerable contrast from the Moody persona he had portrayed during Harry's previous school year.

"Oh, I bet that some part of you has been _dying_ to gush about your bedroom escapades with the Dark Lord. And who else, besides me, can you do it with? I really don't see you talking about this with _Thor_. Great bloke, but I really don't see him as the sort to enjoy raunchy gossip."

Harry barked out another laugh. "What do you think the Dark Lord would do if he knew you were trying to get me to talk about our sex life? I know you're not a sadist, and _no one_ enjoys being on the receiving end of the Dark Lord's _Crucio_."

"I'm only offering what I think you need."

"And what is that?"

Barty shrugged and grinned. "A friend."

Harry halted completely in his steps and blinked at Barty with an air of surprise. "What?"

"I'm not blind. I see you nearly every day – or rather, every-other-day, for you – and I've listened to you bitch and moan about those bloody Gryffindors for months."

"What are you getting at?"

"Feel free to curse me if I'm wrong – _my Lord –_" he added with a cheeky grin that earned him a hard glare from Harry, "but I think that being around all your old friends and having to play nice with them is just reminding you that you don't have them anymore. _Friends_, I mean. _Pretending_ to be friends, but not actually being able to rely on them the way a person relies on, and confides in, their friends, is crap. We all need friends. I know I miss my old friends. I miss Reg, and I've missed Bella, Rudolphus, and Rabastan. It's obviously why you've been getting friendly with mini-Malfoy. It's also why you've never treated me like you treat the rest of the Death Eaters."

Harry looked at Barty with an unreadable expression for several long seconds as he thought over the older man's words. He would admit that he'd connected with Barty a lot, and really did treat the man differently than any of the others. Barty was, in reality, quite a bit older than Harry, but having been locked away in Azkaban for a year, and then spending about a decade under the imperious curse had stunted his mental development. He really wasn't any more emotionally developed than Harry was. Harry realized in that moment that, aside from Tom, Barty and Draco were the closest things he had to actual friends, with Thor coming in next, although he was more like a friend-like mentor since the man was older, _and_ he was actually emotionally and mentally developed enough to act his age.

_Did he really miss having friends?_ Yes. That was an stupid question. He wasn't going to lie to himself. Honestly, it was probably the most substantial reason he was trying as hard as he was to quietly woo his old friends over to the other side. Having Ginny, or the twins, or Hermione join the Dark wouldn't actually help the war efforts any. None of them had any real influence or power, and even if they chose to fight for the Light, it was unlikely that any of them could contribute any real defense, so even taking them out of the equation by making them neutral didn't make a difference.

But part of Harry really did want to bring some of his friends with him. Harry almost growled at himself in annoyance. _Even after the way they'd all abandoned him, time and again... _He sighed. At least he wasn't deluded enough to want to bring Ron along. Ron was a lost cause and Harry knew that.

But he really did miss having friends. He missed having people he could confide all his secrets to, aside from Tom. He _did_ want to have someone that he could gush to about Tom... _and their sex life._ Barty was right. He really _did_ want to tell someone about his life with Tom. He really did want to consider Barty a friend.

_And Draco. How weird. Did he want to tell Draco the whole truth? Honestly? Yes... he did. But part of him didn't. Or perhaps he was just wary of doing so. In any case, telling Draco would have to wait._

He looked up into the other man's eyes and found Barty smiling back at him. He rolled his own eyes, huffed quietly and resumed going down the stairs.

"You just want to be counted among my _friends_, because I'm a _Lord_ now," Harry said, teasingly.

"I _was_ a Slytherin." Barty teased back. "It's all about putting yourself into the best position of power and influence, and taking advantage of it."

Harry snorted.

They reached the bottom of the stairs and Harry exited into the main corridor.

"Are you just going to ignore my offer? No reply at all? I offer you my friendship and you don't even honor me with a response?" Barty asked as they rounded the corner and headed towards the large double doors that would take them into the entrance hall.

"You aren't really so insecure that you actually need me to give you a response, are you?"

"Of course not!"

"Well, I think you know the answer."

"So we're friends?" Barty asked and Harry paused and looked at him with mild bewilderment.

"You're very weird for a Slytherin." Harry remarked after a moment.

Barty chuckled and looked sheepish for a moment. "Want to hear one of my deepest, darkest, secrets?"

Harry's brows rose into his forehead. "Er... sure."

"The bloody sorting hat considered putting me in Hufflepuff."

Harry choked on thin air before guffawing loudly. "What?" he exclaimed through his laughter.

"The damn thing said I was incredibly loyal and not afraid of hard work. I nearly fell off the bleedin' stool."

"Did you ask it to put you in Slytherin instead?"

"Didn't have to _ask_ it anything. It said I _could_ have gone to Hufflepuff, but that I had more cunning in me, and was too sneaky for the badger house, in the end."

"Merlin, Barty! How bizarre a thought that is. You in _Hufflepuff_." Harry said, shaking his head and chuckling.

"Yeah, I shudder to think how I would have turned out if it had gone the other way. I never would have been best mates with Regulus. Never would have gotten close to Bella – even though she was five years ahead of me. But she _never_ would have associated with a bloody Puff."

Harry's laughter ended instantly and his eyes widened with realization. "Wait, the 'Reg' you've always mentioned was _Regulus?_ As in Regulus Black? Sirius's younger brother?"

"Yeah, didn't I mention that at some point?"

"If you did, I must have missed it. Did you ever meet Sirius?"

"A few times, yeah. Reg and I were in the same year at Hogwarts – two years under Sirius, Severus, Lucius, and Narcissa, and five years under Bella, Rudolphus and Rebastan."

"How did you get close with Bellatrix, anyway?" Harry asked, honestly curious.

"Reg was her favorite cousin, for obvious reasons, and she dotted upon him like mad when he started Hogwarts. Since he and I were close, it sort of rubbed off. Plus I am sort of a distant cousin to both of them. My grandmother was a Black, you see."

"Oh! Merlin, you're right! Charis Black married a Casper Crouch! I noticed that a while back and totally forgot to ask you about it. So Casper Crouch was your grandfather, then?"

"That's right. One of the Dark Lord's early financial supporters after Grindlewald was defeated, which was one of the reasons my father was so openly anti-Dark magic. He was trying to distance himself from our Dark family ties for political reason." Barty sneered with obvious disgust in his expression.

"Your father was a bloody wanker. Sent Sirius off without a trial, and sent off his own son to that hellhole."

"The only reason he got me out was because it was my mum's dying wish." Barty said with a sigh. "She was dying anyway and begged him to make the switch."

"And even after he gets you out, he makes you spend a _decade_ under a mind control curse. It's unforgivable, what he did!"

Barty snorted humorlessly. "Did I ever thank you for finishing him off?"

"Er.. no. Honestly I had wondered how you handled that... It doesn't bother you?"

"The only part of it that bothers me was that I wasn't able to do it myself." Barty spat coldly.

Harry nodded in understanding and the two passed into the entry hall and strode across the open grand space to the opposite doors that led into the west wing.

"Well, this is where we part." Harry said, giving Barty a small soft smile.

Barty nodded. "Right you are. Will my Lords be joining the lesser people for lunch tomorrow in the dining room?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Don't know yet. I imagine tomorrow will be busy. Goodnight, Barty."

"'Night."

– –

When Harry entered their bedroom, Tom was already there and in the process of undressing. Harry grinned and let his eyes linger over his lovers form as the man stripped down to nothing but those snug, formfitting boxer briefs he wore.

Tom obviously felt Harry's gaze because he turned around and smirked back, knowingly. He strode towards Harry and began to help him with removing his robes.

"It has been _quite_ a day," Tom said in a quite voice, but a smug accomplished grin spread it's way across his face.

Harry laughed lightly. "That's for sure. Although, for me, it was yesterday."

"True, true. The plans went off without a hitch. We have retrieved my old followers, and acquired new recruits, and on top of all that, all of my followers now know that you are _mine_." Tom ended in a low, possessive voice that sent a shudder up his spine, and a surge of Tom's delicious Dark power that made Harry slightly light headed.

Harry let out a slow, shuddering breath, looking at Tom with slightly lidded eyes, loving the elated, greedy look in the elder wizards eyes.

"Not everyone knows. Snape and Thor don't. And once the Azkaban escapees are all conscious, they'll need to be informed as well."

Tom brushed his words off. "It's not a concern. They will all learn soon enough. The fact remains that it is now known amongst _almost all_ of the Death Eaters that I have a claim on you. That you are to be revered and respected. Treated as my equal."

Tom finished removing Harry's robes and shirt and sat down on the end of the bed. Harry smiled down at him and allowed his lover to disrobe him. He loved watching Tom's long, slender fingers, as they worked the button on his trousers and slowly pulled down the zipper. Tom looked up at him with hunger in his bright red eyes as his hands slid to Harry's hips and his thumbs hooked around the belt loops there and tugged downward. Harry's pants slid off his narrow hips and fell to the floor.

"You wanted me to tell you about the reactions to tomorrow's news?" Harry asked in a breathy voice.

Tom shook his head. "You can tell me in the morning." He leaned in and pressed his lips just below Harry's naval. Harry's breath hitched as jolt of pleasure shot through his gut at the feel of Tom's warm breath, and the nearness of Tom's mouth to his already painfully erect member.

Tom leaned back, grinning up at Harry smugly, and Harry grinned right back. A quick bit of maneuvering later, and both had removed their boxers, leaving the two completely nude. Tom sat back down on the bed and scooted back a bit, motioning for Harry to straddle him. Harry climbed onto the bed, placing his knees on each side of the elder man and was quickly pulled down by a forceful hand placed behind his neck.

Harry moaned into Tom's mouth as their lips crashed together and he felt the possessive need that was churning through Tom and across their link. Tom's free hand went down and gripped Harry's hip, pulling their pelvises flush against each other and bring them each some much needed, glorious friction.

Tom's hand that had been at his neck shifted into his hair and fisted his hair tightly. Tom's hips came up, starting a rhythm that Harry quickly met, grinding their hips together.

"Mmmm... oh... oh..."

"_Yes..._ Oh fuck, Harry..."

"Merlin, Tom! Uuoh!" Harry moaned out as Tom pulled again on his hair, separating their lips.

Tom's hand left Harry's hip and came up to his mouth where he licked his palm quickly before slipping his hand back down between them and gripping both of their cocks together.

Harry called out and whimpered wonderfully. He thrust his hips, pumping both of their cocks into Tom's hand and bringing the both of them closer still to that glorious release. But suddenly Tom was pushing Harry off and flipping him over onto his back.

He straddled Harry then and attacked his mouth and neck. Licking his chest and nipples, all the while, resuming their earlier position, only now with Tom in control. After a few minutes of this, he had Harry writhing in torturous euphoria and a puddle of need and desire.

"Please Tom... Please," Harry panted as his back arched up, pressing his cock into Tom's hand and against Tom's own rock hard member. "I need you... I... more... in me. Now!"

Tom chuckled slightly, but it was breathy and heavy with his own desperate desire. "As you wish, my love," Tom whispered in Harry's ear as he let his talented tongue trace over the lobe, and the spade earring there.

He wandlessly summoned the lube and quickly set to preparing Harry who was calling out nonsense and practically shaking with the intensity of his desire to be filled.

Tom brought Harry's legs up over his shoulders and forcefully plowed into his young, nimble lover.

"Uugh! Gods... you're still so tight. Even after all these months..." Tom ground out as his body was wracked with bliss.

Harry grinned smugly despite the near-painful stretching that always greeted the first plunge of the night. "Magical healing factor, I suppose," he breathed out. "Who knows – maybe I'll always be tight for you."

Tom groaned out and his head collapsed down onto Harry's chest and he hummed hungrily. "Wouldn't that be lovely," he breathed through a sly grin.

"Yes... sure... lovely. Come on, Tom. Fuck me already."

"Cheeky brat." Tom chuckled and pulled out slightly before plunging back in again harshly.

Harry called out in shock and in pleasure.

Tom set a quick, rough pace, rocking the entire bed and bringing Harry to the point where he was screaming profanities and clawing at Tom's back by the time the pair came, simultaneously; each ones own individual pleasure echoing across the link and amplifying the other's.

Tom heaved a satisfied sigh as he slid down onto the bed beside Harry, who almost instantly nuzzled his way into Tom's side.

Tom waved his hand, bringing the blankets up and covering them. He wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulder and held him tightly against him.

"Mine," he whispered in a satisfied, possessive growl.

Harry chuckled and just snuggled in closer in response. "And you're mine."

– –

It was early the next morning – November 1st – and Lucius Malfoy was growing very impatient as he paced back and forth through the entrance hall of his home. His wife was dallying, and he couldn't wait much longer for her. He had to apparate her to the Dark Lord's castle, because only a person baring the Dark Lord's mark could apparate in through the wards, but he also needed to get to the Ministry. He had important things to do today. The Ministry would no doubt be in an uproar in reaction to the events of the previous night's attack on Azkaban, and he needed to manage and properly direct the Minister's panic.

While he stood, waiting impatiently in the entrance hall for his wife to finally finish with whatever it was she was doing, he couldn't help but let his mind wander to the previous night. When the Dark Lord had first announced that he would be holding a Samhain Festival at the castle, he had been a bit surprised, but also greatly pleased. In the early years of the last war, the Dark Lord had held such events, but such celebrations had fallen to the wayside in the later years. Lucius had been even more surprised, but also quite pleased, to learn that spouses and trusted adult family members were welcome to attend the event.

It was like a hint that things might actually return to the old ways. Where the Dark Lord was more than just a leader in a revolution, but also a figurehead in their traditions, culture, and rituals. It caused a powerful, excited bubble of anticipation to build in Lucius' chest.

Then his mind wandered to the _other_ shocking revelation of the previous night. The Dark Lord's consort. Even after all these months, Lucius still didn't know much about Evan Harris. He'd done some light digging out of his own curiosity and could find no reference to anyone by the name that met the man he'd come to know as the Dark Lord's apprentice. He assumed, thusly, that it was most likely an assumed name, although it made Lucius that much more curious as to who the man really was.

The wizard was fairly young from what he could tell. Maybe somewhere around twenty – not that he would judge the Dark Lord's choice – in fact Lucius could imagine having a youthful consort could be quite a boon. Evan Harris was clearly a powerful and skilled enough wizard to earn his position at the Dark Lord's side. Lucius had seen the man duel in the advanced training sessions and their training leading up to the attack on Azkaban. He had felt the man's powerful magic aura. _Seen_ with his own eyes the level of skill the young man possessed. He was truly an impressive wizard, and if the Dark Lord wanted to take the young man as his own, he would never dare to question such a thing.

It was still shocking, though. He had to admit, part of him had a very difficult time seeing the Dark Lord as a person who would feel romantic affection for anyone, or ever be willing to display anything resembling tenderness. But that belief had been shattered with what he had witnessed during the ritual, and the dance later the previous evening.

When the announcement about the Dark Lord's new consort had first been made, Lucius had wondered if it were just a power play. If it was a partnership based on convenience and power as had long been common among the powerful and influential pureblood families, but then he had seen the two together. The kiss they had shared after passing through the ritual cleansing fire; and the dancing later... The dancing had shown him for sure that there was far more to the relationship of the Dark Lord and Evan Harris than power or political maneuvering. The Dark Lord had been... _tender_ with Harris. Gentle caresses, honest _smiles – _the Dark Lord at _smiled!_ And it wasn't a sadistic or gleeful smile, it was a warm, caring smile.

As shocking as it had been to witness such a display from his Lord, it somehow left him feeling... excited? Hopeful? He wasn't even sure. He was happy – which was probably odd. Happy for his Lord? Yes... and no. That wasn't entirely it. He _was_ happy for the Dark Lord; happy that the man had managed to find _love_ – because it was clear from the look in the man's normally frightening red eyes that he was in love.

Lucius considered himself lucky. So many of his peers had married for power or convenience. Arranged marriages for the sake of their families and their bloodlines. Marriages devoid of any real affection. However Lucius truly loved his wife. He had courted Narcissa during their last year at Hogwarts and had been overjoyed that his father and her father both approved of their match.

However, he was not simply happy for the Dark Lord, having found love. He was also eager to see what sort of changes this would continue to bring to his Lord and their cause. He had already seen a dramatic shift in strategy and goals from the previous war. The Dark Lord was more sane this time; more focused. His plans and tactics weren't nearly as violent, and he was more concerned with winning the war with as little conflict and as few deaths, than he was with simply crushing the opposition utterly and making them suffer.

Lucius would admit that in his youth he had eagerly followed the Dark Lord and had even enjoyed the violence, but he had perhaps mellowed a bit with age. He had more than a decade of experience with careful political maneuvering, and had grown accustomed to a comfortable, stable, life and time spent raising a son that he desperately loved. With such experiences now under his belt, the violence he once relished was no longer quite so appealing.

This Evan Harris had been by his Lord's side since before Lucius and the other Death Eaters had even been summoned to return. Harris had apparently played some crucial role in the Dark Lord having returned to bodily form. Harris was always treated differently. The way they spoke to each other; the body language they used in each others presence; the nearness they often had to each other... now that he thought back on what he had witnessed of the two of them, he realized that they had likely been involved intimately this entire time he had known Harris.

Perhaps it was this young man that had brought many of the changes he had seen in his Lord? If he was, Lucius had only thanks to give the young wizard.

Lucius wondered about him though. He had a very, _very_ difficult time, imagining anyone being in an intimate relationship with the Dark Lord. Evan Harris was a good looking young man. With as much power as he possessed, he could likely have any partner he desired. Obviously this was true, since he had managed to gain the interest of the most powerful wizard alive. And while Lucius revered the Dark Lord deeply, he couldn't help but mentally cringe at the thought of the man being intimate with someone... and the way he _looked..._

But then he thought back to the previous night. It wasn't nearly as shocking as he would have expected it to be – seeing the Dark Lord in all his horrific glory, _kissing_ Harris. With his features softened with uncharacteristic tenderness, it _almost_ wasn't disturbing.

Almost.

Lucius turned and gave an annoyed, impatient huff and Narcissa finally rushed into the room, apologizing for taking so long, but she couldn't find something or other because one of the elves and misplaced it. She had a bag with her that included her own kit of medical supplies and potions. She was anxious to see her sister. He knew that. Her shoulders were tense and her brow was creased with nervous worry. It was uncharacteristic for his wife to so openly show her dismay and he knew it was a sign of just how worried she was.

Lucius sighed and walked over to his wife, resting one of his hands on her shoulder while bringing the other up and threading it gently down through her silken golden locks. He leaned in close and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. They shared a look that said more than any words and she gave him a worried, but grateful smile.

He wrapped his arm around hers and a moment later they vanished from the hall with a _crack._

– – – –

_AN: review reply:_

To TamPup91 -

- You have Private Messaging disabled in your preferences, so I couldn't respond to your questions. Don't know if you'll see this here or not, but I'll answer.

Q1what the heck is Dream of Doll?

- This is in reference to the 'what I think what would make cool wizard robes' image I posted on my author profile. Dream of Doll is a Korean company that makes BJD (Ball-Jointed-Dolls). BJDs are very popular among asian countries and especially in Japan. They are very very VERY EXPENSIVE. People go crazy for customizing the things, doing custom 'face-ups' (painted make-up, etc.) and making custom costumes. I like the Dream of Doll site because they have such original and awesome costumes for their dolls. My sister-in-law actually used to own a couple of these dolls. While I find them astetically awesome, I would never own one because they are soo insanely expensive.

Q2Will Bleeding Darkness have MPREG?

- No, it won't. I've got no qualms with mpreg in some stories, but I'm not going there with this one. If a child was ever involved in this story it would be in an epilogue and it would most likely be an adopted orphan, but I don't have any plans at all for a child to ever be introduced into their relationship.


	26. Chapter 25 Incomplete with Notice

AN: First off – an Unfortunate Notice:

For those that do not follow my forum, I'll post the notice here as well:

Breeding Darkness, and Rebirth are officially on Haitus.

I apologize, but real life has gotten in the way of my writing. In addition to that unfortunate fact is the simple reality that I've completely lost interest in both of the stories.

My real life is a very full, and stressful, chaotic mess, and I write to escape from that stress. Writing is my fun-hobby and I do it for myself. If it's no longer fun, and becomes a chore, then there is seriously no point in doing it. Unfortunately Breeding Darkness has become a chore because I really don't like it anymore. I get that lots of people _do_ like it... but I don't. And I just can't write a story I don't like anymore.

So, while I appreciate that a lot of other people really enjoy these stories and there are some that would say I have a commitment to my readers to keep going, I'm afraid that at the moment, both stories will go onto the shelf for a while, if not permanently. I do not have the will, nor the desire, to keep going on either.

I do, in fact, know where I'd take Breeding Darkness - so it really is not a matter of writers block. I've got it planned out and outlined for quite a bit further into the story, I just don't like the story anymore. I don't **want** to keep writing it.

And as for Rebirth - it was always a slightly aimless plotbunny. In it's case, I legitimately don't know where to take it now. I've got no vision in my head of where the story is going anymore.

*shrugs*

So - I'm sorry. I really am. But like I said - this is my happy-place and my escape from stress. I refuse to allow it to generate more, unnecessary stress in my life, so I'm doing this for my own mental health.

This doesn't mean I'm not writing anymore. You wouldn't believe how many plotbunnies I've started over the last couple months during my limited freetime - generally during my lunch breaks from work. I think that one of them even got to be around 30 pages before I closed the doc file and dismissed it to the pile of dead bunny corpses. If I actually get a story that seems to be sticking, I might post it, but I'll probably wait a good long while to make sure I'm not just going to lose interest in it and drop it like all the others. So... like, at least 200 pages before anything gets posted.

Once again, I am sorry.

What follows is what I had sitting around, incomplete and unposted:

– – ~ # # ~ – –

Chapter 25 (incomplete)

Harry walked into the infirmary with his bound parchment notebook and an auto inking quill. He'd gone through the files on each of their 'new recruits' and had made a list of questions that he intended to ask them in person. He went over to the healer who was currently on duty and asked her about everyone current status.

After a brief discussion, he noticed someone else enter the infirmary out of his peripheral vision and turned to look. It was Narcissa Malfoy. She paused at the entrance for a moment before she turned to the only person in the room that she actually cared about. Her sister.

Narcissa quickly made her way directly to Bellatrix's bed and set a bag she was carrying down on the chair beside her bed. She bent over her and delicately brushed her fingers over the sallow, sunken features of the sleeping woman. Harry observed her silently from across the room for a moment. She was clearly trying to hide her emotions, and yet she was also obviously affected by the emaciated state of her sister.

The healer asked Harry permission to go over to Narcissa and he nodded his ascent. The healer quickly strode over and began to speak with the aristocratic blond witch and Harry took that time to begin to speak with a few of the new recruits who were currently conscious. It was a mixed batch. The only really consistent thing between them was that they were all thankful to be the hell away from Azkaban.

Their case files were a varied mix. Some were more detailed than others, and he took a moment with each one to clear up some details on why exactly they were sent to prison. He wasn't the least bit surprised when two of them actually insisted they'd never even done the crime they'd committed. Whether this was true or not, Harry didn't really know, or necessarily even care. That is usually how it works in prison, right? Most people plead innocence no matter what? Still – given what happened to his godfather, Harry wasn't about to instantly dismiss their claims to innocence.

From what he could tell, one of them had been more of a political enemy and was toss into Azkaban on a collection of technicalities in order to get rid of him. The man seemed intelligent and had potential.

Finally Harry found himself with no one left to speak with and looked across the room to find Narcissa sitting in a chair beside her sister's bed, reading a book. Harry closed his notebook and tucked it under his arm before calmly striding across the room and coming to a stop at the side of Bellatrix's bed, opposite where Narcissa was currently sitting. She looked up at the movement with slightly wide eyes for a moment before schooling her expression and bowing her head.

"My Lord," she spoke softly.

He _still_ was not used to that...

"Lady Malfoy," he replied with a slight incline of his head before looking down at the unconscious witch. "How is your sister?"

"The healer has her in a medically induced sleep so that the potions can heal her body faster," Narcissa said while sitting primly in her chair.

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "We are working on recruiting a wizard who specializes in mind healing and has experience with rehabilitating prisoners who have had to spend a few years in Azkaban. It's not quite the same as the considerable duration that your sister has been exposed to the dementors, but he will hopefully help in speeding up the recovery of those who suffered the greatest for their loyalty."

"That is a relief to hear, my Lord. Thank you," Narcissa replied quietly bowing her head again.

"Your husband has served the Dark Lord well and he has shown me great respect even when I was considered little more than an apprentice. He performed his duties beyond expectations during the raid on Azkaban. The Dark Lord and I are very pleased with your family. You have shown great loyalty and have aided in the cause, even to the detriment of family. Your actions will not be forgotten or ignored."

She looked up with slightly wide eyes before allowing a small smile to grace her thin lips and bowing her head again. "Thank you for your praise, my Lord. You are most gracious."

"Will you be returning often to lend aid in the infirmary? I imagine you would like to keep an eye on your sister during her recovery?"

"I will return as often as I am able. Lucius is not always available to bring me –"

"I will key you into the wards. It's an inconvenience to both of you to rely on your husband's Mark to grant you entry," Harry said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Harry closed his eyes tilted his head to the side, reaching out with his magic to tap into the wards surrounding the abbey. Once he was sure he had a hold of it he opened his eyes to look at Narcissa and held his hand out in offering. "Give me your hand."

She stood quickly and made her way around the bed. She tentatively placed a shaking hand into Harry's. He touched her magic just enough to lock her signature into the wards so they would permit her entry.

"You are keyed in," he said simply as he dropped her hand.

"Thank you my Lord," she said a little breathless with surprise. Her eyes shone with curiosity and she clearly wanted to ask him a question but was refraining.

Harry smirked slightly. "You may speak freely," he said, prodding her to ask her question.

"I – I apologize, my Lord, I am simply surprised that you have access to the wards," she said, lowering her head to the end.

"This is one of my family homed, actually. However the Dark Lord has full control of the wards as well, as would be expected."

"Your home?" she echoed with obvious surprise.

"Yes," Harry replied simply.

"I see. Well, what I have seen of it so far is beautiful."

"I'm glad. I'll have to show you around sometime. I put a great deal of effort into preparing it when we decided to open it up and use it for our headquarters."

"That is most gracious of you, my Lord," she said, almost gushing and Harry barely held in a chuckle that wished to escape him.

Harry finally gave her a final nod and shifted his notebook again. "I will leave you to your vigil. I have things I must attend to."

"Of course. It was a pleasure speaking with you."

"The pleasure was all mine, I assure you," Harry said with a simple bow of his head before heading out of the Infirmary.

– – – – – – –

_AN: And that's where I stopped. That was a few months ago... Again, I apologize, but this is just how it is. What follows are the notes/plans I had for where the story would go up until the Yule Holidays would begin._

– – – – – –

Umbridge sits in on classes. She's in on their History class and someone (Hermione, probably) asks her about the Break-in. Umbridge at first, insists that it has nothing to do with the matter at hand. Hermione persists. Asks about the possibility of Voldemort being behind the break-out. Umbridge becomes furious and absolutely refutes any possibility that the Dark Lord had returned.

She resumes her assessment of Binns. By the end of the week, Binns is given the boot.

–

Hagrid returns to school, rather battered. He has Gwarp with him.

–

Snape comes to the abbey for the first time. He's there for a meeting with the Dark Lord, but is about 40 minutes early. He encounters Lucius there and the two slip into one of the empty rooms to talk. Lucius exclaims his shock over discovering that the Dark Lord has taken Harris as his Consort. Snape wasn't present at that meeting, so he hadn't heard yet and is _shocked_ by this revelation.

He tells Lucius what Dumbledore had told him about having encountered the Dark Lord with Harris in a compromising situation, and that was why Snape had known about it before. Also confides in Lucius that Dumbledore said he'd seen the Dark Lord looking young and very much _human_ again.

Finally, it's time for Snape's meeting with the Dark Lord. He makes his way into the conference room, only to find himself walking into the room, already occupied by the Dark Lord and Evan Harris engaged in a rather heated kiss.

Snape turns to leave as soon as the shock wears off, but is stopped and called back in.

Voldemort informs Snape of the official change in Evan's status. He also tells him that he is allowed to inform Dumbledore of this revelation, since it would look odd if Dumbledore were to learn of it from some other source and Snape had not told him.

–

Encounter with Bellatrix at the Abbey. _ I still haven't decided how this should go..._

–

During dinner at Hogwarts the next day, Professor Lennox Crockett is introduced by Umbridge as their new History of Magic professor. The staff table doesn't look particularly pleased. Umbridge had a wide, toad-like smirk. The Slytherins look thrilled and whisper amongst themselves excitedly, while several congratulate Nero Crockett (7th year Slytherin). The student body as a whole doesn't seem to know exactly what to think, especially since everyone openly acknowledges that Binns was an utterly pathetic teacher.

–

First Quidditch match of the season. Ron fails epically and Slytherin is up by 120 points when Harry manages to catch the snitch.

–

Harry has discussion with Ginny. Apologizes for never asking her if she was okay after the chamber mess. Admits to her that when he was sorted, the hat wanted to put him in Slytherin.

–

Harry and Hermione go back to the Room of Requirement to work on the Hereditary Family Tree. The potion is done. They place it in a wide, rectangular vat and soak a large blank tapestry in the potion. It has to soak for twenty minutes and during that time, Harry and Hermione talk. Hermione fidgets a bit before confronting Harry on the fact that she knows some of the spells he and Professor Rowle have been teaching in the intermediate Defence Association club are Dark and asks him about that.

Harry unabashedly admits to knowing about it. Points out that in Charms they've been performing xxxxx spell, and it's a Light affinity spell, and Flitwick hasn't mentioned that to them at all. Nor is it mentioned in their books that it and others are affiliated spells.

Next Hermione asks Harry his opinion on the breakout, and on Voldemort's return. Prods Harry, pointing out that Harry has been distinctly avoiding talking about Voldemort all term so far. Harry hesitates and looks into Hermione's eyes. He slips into her mind as stealthily as he can manage and suddenly realizes that Hermione is fishing to see if she can speak to Harry openly about some things that have been nagging at her lately. She feels like Harry – as the only one of her friends who has shown any openness to the Dark – is the only one who _might _be open to what she's been thinking, but Harry being _Harry_ has her questioning this.

Harry realizes that Krum's been doing his job nicely. Hermione has started to pay attention to some of the Dark Sect's reasons and motives behind their attempted revolt against the Light-run power. She desperately wants someone else to talk to and bounce ideas off of, but since Harry is against Voldemort, and Voldemort is the one who is basically leading the Dark, she's terrified of loosing her friend.

Harry pulls out and Hermione's eyes are wide and she looks a bit horrified. She realizes that he was probably in her head.

Harry gives her a reassuring smile, apologizes for intruding upon her privacy, but he had to be sure before he came clean. He admits to her that he's been questioning a lot of things lately, and admits that he too has come to come to understand and empathize with the Dark's motives.

She's relieved. Says she was so worried that she would lose him over this.

Finally they pull the tapestry out of the vat, hang it up to dry on a clothes line sort of thing. Harry casts a drying spell and then they begin a blood ritual to start the actual family tree forming. Hermione has to cut her palm with a ceremonial dagger and then wipe the blood off onto the tapestry. Next they chant in Latin and cast a final spell. The tree slowly begins to materialize on the tapestry, starting with Hermione's name at the very bottom, working it's way up through her mother's line, to her grandparents. Her grandfather was listed as a muggle, and grandmother was a squib.

Her brother was Buckley Pritchard. Buckley Pritchard's son is William Pritchard who is a Death Eater and who had a son named Graham Pritchard – who is a 3rd year Slytherin.

Harry laughs and exclaims that this explains why she's been doing so good with the Dark spells in their DA classes. Hermione doesn't seem to get it, Harry points out that the Prichards, Harkiss', Gamps, and Harpers (all listed in her tree) are _all_ Dark pureblood families. He also points out to her that Graham Pritchard is a Slytherin at Hogwarts right now. He thinks he's a 2nd or 3rd year and mentions that he may have even met William Pritchard, although doesn't tell her where from.

Before they go, Harry copies a smaller version of the tapestry and takes it with him.

–

Harry gets a letter from Remus. He says he's been with one of the largest werewolf packs in Britain for the past couple months and hasn't been able to write before then. Tells Harry that he gave him a lot to think about when they talked back in August, and going back to the packs with a different viewpoint and the willingness to be open and accepting about what and who he is has made a world of difference.

Says he still doesn't know what to think about the war, but has come to terms with the fact that Dumbledore is not truly what he seems to be, and that he is simply not willing to blindly follow him any longer. He wants to fight for the rights of those like him, and knows that he simply cannot do that if he sides with the Light. At the same time, he doesn't approve of Voldemort's tactics and violence, nor does he approve of Voldemort's alliance with Fenrir Grayback.

–

During next Intermediate Death Eater Training session at the Abbey, 'Even' observes William Pritchard. After a bit, he takes the man aside. Tells him that one of Rowle's students at Hogwarts had been showing a lot of promise in the Dark Arts, however she was a "muggleborn". A hereditary test was conducted recently and it turned out that she was related to the Pritchards. He shows Pritchard the shrunk-down copy of the tapestry. Pritchard seems torn between being curiously interested and being irked at the connection to a muggleborn. Evan points out that she's the top in her year and is considered one of the most powerful young witches at Hogwarts, not to mention the promise she's shown in the Dark Arts. Pritchard seems to puff up a bit at that, and then asks why he's being told all this.

Evan informs him that it is the Dark Lord's goal to try and grow their base among the wizarding youth to reduce the counter force after they take over the Ministry. They have the Slytherin's easy, but gaining support among the other houses is much harder; especially the Gryffindors. Granger is a Gryffindor, and growing their base there would be beneficial.

Pritchard seems to remember something at that point and suddenly recalls that he'd heard the girl's name before. That she was described as being one of Harry Potter's friends. Evan just smirks.

He tells Pritchard that if the girl makes the effort to contact him that he should reply kindly and try to bring her openly into his family. That he should also inform his son to offer the girl a hand of friendship should he be approached. Tells Pritchard that Rowle is going to encourage her to contact him, so it should happen sometime in the near future.

Pritchard agrees.

–

The next day during Breakfast, Hermione gasps when she gets the Daily Prophet and shows it to Harry. It reports that Sirius Black was spotted by Aurors, a chase, and small battle ensued but Black escaped. The reporter makes a bit of a fuss about the Ministry's incompetency and their inability to apprehend the escaped criminals. The news unnerves Harry and he decides to use the mirror to contact Sirius again as soon as possible, asking again that the man come to stay in his house.

About 10 minutes later, Snape comes over, sneers disdainfully down at Harry and makes some sort of disparaging remark, while subtly slipping him a piece of parchment. Harry reads it and the note says that Dumbledore did not currently have the ring on his finger.

Harry makes an excuse and leaves the breakfast table. He makes a dash for Dumbledore's office. Before getting there, he casts the Parselmagic phase shift spell and walks right through the gargoyle and climbs up the staircase, through the door, and begins frantically searching the office.

After being in there for only a minute, he suddenly hears the sound of the spiral staircase shifting and in walks Dumbledore and _Bill Weasley_. He stays phased and waits. Dumbledore tells Bill that he is working on a very important project that may decide the fate of the Light in the inevitable conflict. He tells Bill that he cannot directly influence Bill in this matter, but that there is a book on his desk that he thinks the young wizard might find enlightening. It takes Bill a bit to catch on, but he eventually takes the book while Dumbledore is pointedly looking at the wall, ignoring him.

Before Bill leaves Dumbledore asks for his opinion on a matter that the curse breaker might have some knowledge on. Bill seems shocked that Dumbledore could possibly need to ask _him_ for magical knowledge and says he'll help in any way he can.

Dumbledore says that he has an object that can only be destroyed by a few rare things, one being fiendfyre, the other being basilisk venom. Fiendfyre would completely destroy the object though, and he was hoping for it to remain mostly in tact. The problem was that his attempts to acquire any basilisk venom had thus far failed. He had recently realized, however, that he had a goblin-made weapon that had come in contact with basilisk venom at one point.

He said to Bill that it was his understanding that Goblin-made weapons absorbed the magical attributes of any powerful substance they into contact with, so, theoretically, the sword would have taken on the magical properties of basilisk venom. He asks if Bill would agree that the sword might now be capable of destroying the curse without physically destroying the object?

Bill looks thoughtful but finally agrees that that sounds right and if the cursed object would normally only be destroyed by basilisk venom, a goblin-made weapon that had come into contact with basilisk venom should be able to destroy the curse as well.

Dumbledore thanks him for his opinion and for his time and tells him farewell. He walks Bill out to the door and waits for a moment until you could hear the sound of the gargoyle at the base of the stairs moving back into place.

Harry is still there, phased, and watches in horror as Dumbledore takes the ring out of the warded desk drawer, sets it on top of his desk and then goes over and removes Gryffindor's sword from a case on the wall. He's about to take the sword to the ring when a small dinging alarm sounds and Dumbledore looks up. He frowns and sets the sword down on the desk and hurriedly leaves his office. Harry quickly unphases, runs over and grabs the ring and leaves the fake behind. He rephases and runs from the office. -Something will probably need to be done about the paintings witnessing this?-

In the hall outside Dumbledore's office, Peeves is running wild, tossing dung bombs left and right and crashing through the rows of armor lining the walls, causing a tremendous ruckus.

As Harry tries to make his way down the hall through all the insanity, he senses _himself_ in the hall. He gets dizzy for a second before quickly running into a deserted classroom and waiting for a few minutes. He realizes that he must have used his time-turner to create a distraction that lured Dumbledore out of his office.

Harry wonders again why Dumbledore was so insistent on not destroying the ring, but only the horcrux, and wonders just _what_ the ring really was. As far as Tom knew, it was just a family heirloom, although in the memory Dumbledore had shown him, Marvolo Gaunt had said it was from the 'Peverell' family. He takes the ring back to Tom.

He also tells Tom about Dumbledore not-so-subtly leaving a book for Bill Weasley. Voldemort looks thoughtful and slightly angry. Mutters about Dumbledore 'cheating'. Harry asks Tom to explain; Tom tells Harry about how one goes about becoming a Lord of magic. That there are measures in place to try and prevent a Lord from choosing his successor. That Dumbledore is clearly trying to bypass them by providing certain wizards he deems appropriate with the information they would need to follow the path. He suspects that Dumbledore has probably approached several different wizards and given them all the same information since, in the end, it is Magic that deems who is and who is not acceptable, any applicants will have to face the trails, and many will likely be rejected. He suspects that Dumbledore fears there being no Light Lord in place during the war since his death is impending. Normally there are periods of time between Lords, but Dumbledore is clearly trying to circumvent the natural flow of things.

–

Harry tries to use the mirror to contact Sirius but he doesn't answer it. Harry tries several more times and gets rather worried. He sends a letter off, hoping that maybe Hedwig can get a hold of Sirius. He sends a small bottle cap that he makes into a portkey. Tells Sirius in the letter that the Portkey will take him to a warded room within Mohrda Abbey.

–

Harry talks Hermione into approaching Graham Pritchard, asking him to accompany her to Hogsmeade, the last Hogsmeade weekend before the winter holidays. She comes back to Harry later, excited, telling him that Graham was really nice and agreed to go to Hogsmeade with her so they could talk.

Afterwards Hermione gets together with Harry and is really excited about her talk with Graham. Says she's going to write to Graham's father, William and that he's going to give her some information on their family history. Harry says he's happy for her.

–

Meeting with a DE from Ministry – Department of Mysteries? He informs Voldemort that the Order seems to be setting guards to watch/observe Dept of Mysteries. One man was apprehended trying to break into the hall of prophecy. He's in St. Mungos.

Hall of Prophecy bit sparks Tom and Harry's curiosity. Asks for further details.

Afterwards, they wonder why Dumbledore would bother trying to protect the prophecy there when Tom has already told the man that he knows that the prophecy is fake. They realize/wonder if perhaps the copy that's held at the Ministry is a copy of the _real_ prophecy.

–

Harry is standing in a corridor looking over the map when the Twins come up to him. They tell him that they want to talk with him about something important in private.

They go to an empty classroom and Harry wards it for privacy.

The twins tell Harry that they've been doing a lot of thinking about what Harry told them all at Grimmauld Place back at the end of August. That they think that Dumbledore might have done that subliminal message implanting thing to them at some point. That they think it might have been Dumbledore' mind-manipulations that made them hand the marauder's map over to Harry back in his 3rd year. When he needed to sneak out of the castle they could have simply told him where the secret passages were. They had no reason, and honestly, no desire, to part with the map. Now that they know that it belonged to Harry's dad and his friends, they admit that it's rightfully Harry's and don't want it back – they're just saying. At the time, they had no logical reason for handing it over and it's something that's been bothering them a bit for a while.

–

Early December, Umbridge returns for another round of 'class observations' and one week before the end of term she announces that Trelawney is fired and that after 1st term exams are complete, the Divination teacher will be replaced. Dumbledore protects Trelawney from getting kicked out of the castle and allows her to remain living in the castle. He brings in Firenze to teach Divination before the Ministry had the opportunity to appoint someone of their own choosing.

–

December 19th – one day before the end of term – Harry gets another summons from Dumbledore. Dumbledore brings up that Harry's name isn't down for those staying at the castle that year and asks Harry where he's planning to spend his holidays. Harry tells him that he'll be staying with Nick and he's already gotten permission from the Dursley's.

Dumbledore asks Harry if he would be willing to stay at Grimmauld Place instead, and even offers to allow Nick to come as well. Harry thanks him for the offer, but says he would much rather just stay at Nick's home.

Dumbledore pushes and finally Harry just cuts him off and flat refuses.

Dumbledore sighs heavily but gives in and asks Harry if he would be willing to join him for another trip into the pensieve. Harry agrees and they watch the memory of Tom Riddle at age 11 when Dumbledore came to visit him at the orphanage, informing him that he was a wizard.

Harry is entranced with observing Tom's younger self, but manages to refrain from displaying it outwardly.

–

First day of the winter holidays, Harry and all his friends get into the carriages, ride them down to Hogsmeade, and board the Hogwarts Express. On the train, Harry and Hermione have to do prefect duty first. Afterwards, they return to the compartment to find Ron looking bored while Ginny talks enthusiastically with a serene Luna Lovegood.

–

'Nick' is waiting for Harry at King's Cross. After he says goodbye to his friends, Nick side-along apparates Harry for appearances sake, and the two return to Mohrda Abbey.

–

the next day Sirius portkeys in. He's battered and it turns out he's just had another close-call with some aurors. Harry summons one of the DE's that's a skilled healer who works at St. Mungos. The woman is a bit shocked to see Sirius Black there since the DE's were all under the impression that the man hadn't actually been one of them, but quickly sets to work.


	27. Adoption Notices

**Adoption Notifications**

So ever since I gave up on this story, I've had a lot of different people make offers to adopt it. They all fell through. I've given permission to LOTs of people, but for the longest time, it looked like it was just never going to actually happen.

Now, out of no where, **two different authors have picked it up** at virtually the same time. Go figure.

So there are presently two adoptions of this story out there for you all to check out.

The first is being posted over on **Adult Fanfiction .net, instead of here at ffnet.** Affnet doesn't have a story alerts system so if you want to get alerts to updates on that one, you'll have to either join her yahoo group, or follow her on twitter.

Her name is** Danyealle-sama** Her affnet author profile can be found here:  
hp. adultfanfiction. net/ authors. php? no=1296835077

**And her adoption of Breeding Darkness is being posted here:**  
hp. adultfanfiction. net/ story. php? no=600095379

(Remove the spaces)

Also know that because of affnet's rules on posting adopted stories, she's reposting the entire story there - which includes my original mass of chapters. She's doing a beta pass on them and posting only a few a week, so it's going to take a bit of time before she gets to her stuff.

* * *

The second one is being posted by **Darth Keyara** here on ffnet.  
www. fanfiction. net/ u/ 2262744/ Darth_Keyara

She has started with posting my last complete chapter and then my incomplete chapter and going from there.

**It can be found here:**

www. fanfiction. net/ s/ 7744525/ 1/ Harry_Potter_and_the_Breeding_Darkness

* * *

As an additional note, because I've already had someone write me a PM informing me that 'someone is posting DiD on affnet and claiming to be me' - that person IS me. Athey is me. That's my name. So the person on affnet and on archive of our own under the username Athey and Athy respectively, are in fact, me. Not someone pretending to be me.


End file.
